Borderline

As she sat by the fire and wept, 
the prairie wind pushed relentlessly 
against the pane.
Her treasured items lay strewn along 
the arduous trail from there, 
to here.
And now, 
she shivered, 
alone,
in the little sod hut 
he built by hand.
She might survive the winter, but
who will mend the fence?
Image and words by Randy Gerdes