Prairie Poetry   
  Quiet Time: For Verne Morton
   
 

There are great possibilities
in milkweed gone to seed

the crab apple tree in bloom
beside this dirt road

a young girl sitting
like nothing else

among one hundred white trilliums.
Winters

behind the sugar cabin
children eat snow

mixed with maple syrup.
Awaiting

the perfect combination
of wind and light

mill hands pose
unsmiling, arms folded.

Ponds are deep unreachable
dreams of negative and positive;

the sheep and cows docile as pets.
Please close your eyes

as a nitrate film flash
marks your fleck of breath.

What a paradise
of lilies surrounds

the Hawley child
calm in her casket.

 
   
  David Bond
   
  Copyright © 2004 David Bond
   
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