McKnight Prairie

A windy day on the prairie. The sun and the sound, the calm fury of the place, forced my hand to write this small poem.

REMNANT

The prairie
what's left of it
whispers and sighs in opposition
to the surrounding fields and lawns
planned and managed
rectilinear and regimented
where the drift of poisonous
thought applied strictly
threatens taproots and deep water
with runoff and erosion
and lawn mowers
with cash flow.

The prairie
a slim reserve
a resistance alive with beetles and bees
writes a letter to the editor
against simplification
starts a petition for flowers
and antlions and for the time being
an accord with the lancing plows
allows a kind of silence to persist
a solace a sigh
a lingering whisper in the grass
shhh...it's going to be all right.

Posted on 16 de junho de 2017, 04:17 AM by scottking