A Prairie In the Wind

A Prairie In The Wind Here in April, the prairie wind at my back while white clouds mottle scarce new grass, I hold in my hand what has stayed in the jacket for all the long months since November Seeds carried through cold times since that dark day I stripped them, waiting, from rusty plumes in my fence line; Turkey Foot, Big Red, Blue Bluestem- names for an old and simple grass saved from the plow. Most I scattered on earth far removed, scratched a shallow bed before the frost These few are left, a pocket legacy, warning me, a bit of prairie to seed that other earth I hold inside my mind