6.09.2003

I am a prairie dog. Early poem written by young prairie dog:

POEM

Why are the plains like memory,
and the sea like a daydream
where the sun breaks in pieces
of old musicals, blind summers?

The farmhouse far from the ocean
carries my death on waves of wheat,
and bears a heavy childhood too,
bearing a heavy child, my fields -
where we look away to
when the tools are put down
and our hands are free.

When the head leans on the doorpost
and the arms are folded, almost waiting,
the mind could become a river flowing south
and shaking with that human sound.

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