summer in kansas

cold wind,
cold wind
I feel you in my hand.
You play my fingers
invisible old man.
I smell you
in this summer evening,
mixing fog and mist
for the trees
and shading sunsets
so my friend may
breathe this coming night
You teach us cows
dew laden hay...
to love kansas.
With your
song of scents
and quite cold,
you give us home.

Aurora Austin

Copyright © 1998 Aurora Austin

Author Index | Biographies | Prairie Home