Hardpan & Switchgrass

The stiff stalks of yellow grass sway,
Brushed by the fingertips of the wind –
Swaddled by hard soil to earth’s bosom.

Hues from her skeleton fingers
Blend in the setting strawberry sun,
Unseen waves roll over the breadth of gold.

Journey of the bustling fire ant,
Plight of the delicate dragonfly,
The Thunderbird’s wings beat against the plain.

Behold, lonely Red-Tailed Hawk floats,
Footprints reclaimed in a settled haze,
The storm rumbles, distantly, from the East.

A field named for the sorrows,
Of forgotten fears.
A tear drops from the still shadows,
Eclipsed in the clouds.
A whisper from the rising dust,
A free dreaming soul.

The acquisition of memories –
The perpetual prairie sways, still sways.

Little Bighorn Battlefield
Little Bighorn Battlefield
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s