Prairie Poem

Oh proud prairie
Oh fertile shroud
Rooted in the black depths of antiquity
Spotted and swaying with varying degrees
Of blue, green and golden pleasures
A symphony of silent strength
Where wind and grass collide
To worship open expanse
In you I confide

Between the prayers of a Pleistocene sky
The pressure of ice
And the loft of loess
I walk in silent search
Of anything
That can exist so freely
As these erupting spirits of bloom
In concert with birds, time
Motion and tune

Oh my miserable heart
diced to bleeding pulsing squares
Roads and crops
Dust and barbed wire stares
Pitted with rust
That stain more red than ignorance
My imprisoned prairie soul
Dig deep
Into ancient soils
And find the us
In what remains
Of the plows crumbs
And the cattle's waste
Find the starry night
So far away
And let us sleep
Together
Under it
And remain


Comments

  1. (How can there be no comments on this?!)
    BRAVO, Justin. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks, Allison. I think poetry makes some people uncomfortable, but I couldn't resist.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hey you...loving it like 'poetry'. Would that be played on the fiddle tuned how?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

JUNCUS BRACHYPHYLLUS AND THE CASE OF THE MISSING PRAIRIES

Carex aureolensis

The Elymus of Imagination