Prairie Poetry   
  Summer With Janna

Follow me down to the tin star whiskey bars
We can sit with our toes up, watching the world crawl in the endless above,
Your elbows bend under a crescent sky where my toes hang long over a windfall night,
And in our dreams we will chase dragon fly wings till our knees fall off

Do you imagine a past
Where the dogwood moans and the willow trees bend down to meet the rye,
The tall reminders of the fair-haired boys, their smiles asleep
And everything was blamed on summer, even the rain

Lie on your back and open your mouth
Let the tigers open the sky
Let the evening sing and I will cry pearls around your neck

  Peter Ooley
  Copyright © 2007 Peter Ooley
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