Prairie Poetry   
  Burning the Fields

Flames creep
across the bottoms
like serpents on fire.

Gray smoke jets
with silent engines
race across the Kansas sky.

The ancient farmer,
charred by soot,
paws at the flames

like an old black bear,
fork prongs stabbing
just to hear them scream.

  Thomas D. Reynolds
  Copyright © 2005 Thomas D. Reynolds
  Author Index | Biographies | Support Prairie Poetry | Month Index | Year Index | Guestbook | Home