Standing on their hill.

Snow blowing her hair.

Head bowed.

Tears flowing.

His widow remembers.

That hot,

July day in 76.

The day he rode,

Out of her life.

His weathered face.

Blowing his love,

Her final kiss.

Telling her,

To saddle the wind.

Till his return.

Sioux arrow,

Found his chest.

Holding her picture,

For his final kiss.

Montana winds.

Ripple though,

Waving creasy grass.

As her picture circles.

Reaping the wind.

Fighting its return,

To her.

One weathered,

crosss silently waits.

She whispers,

Soon my love.

We shall be one.

Slowly turning,

With a rattled cough.

Pulling her shawl,

Against the wind.

Returning to her,

Lonely life.

One day closer,

To embrace her love.

Riding together,

Reaping the,

Montana wind.