2011-41
We were young andlovers, I followed
your broad and swinging
gait through the prairie
lands, a battered
straw hat my only
shade, jeans tucked tight
into boots, mindful of the
burrs and the way sun-burnt
grass can score and lash
skin.
Leaning against the hot
metal of my truck, gas pump
chugging, my gaze is caught
by an empty lot, choked thick
with blanket flower and
jimsonweed and the feathered
stalks of prairie grass. I
can almost see the gray of
your favorite shirt and
your broad and swinging
stride.
I wonder if you are
walking still, across
sunlit prairies vast and
endless.
Poetry by Minhocao
Read 471 times
Written on 2011-08-14 at 12:29
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