Prairie Poetry   

The sidewalks are littered with robins,
walked out of the grass, flew down from green

Each beak pointing north as to a star;
wings neatly folded; soft, robin-y roundnesss
that softly feathers breast, a carpet;
smoky orange spread out across Oskaloosa

A thousand robins' feet stilled, ghostly
cloud of asterisks

  Elisabeth Lee
  Copyright © 2004 Elisabeth Lee
  Author Index | Biographies | Support Prairie Poetry | Month Index | Year Index | Guestbook | Home