Prairie In My Pocket

A deep poem no doubt

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

Although I have not yet  travelled to the Mississippi Valley and elsewhere to experience the prairie winds, your poem throws me right into a nostalgia for it. The title of the poem alone captivates the reader and by the time one reaches the end of your beautiful verse, one feels the prairie in one's pocket. Simple down-to-earth images of "turkey",  "rusty plumes" and "that other earth" in the poet's mind are not only powerful, but add a sense of humor, including that of carrying the earth in your pocket, which is part of your mindset. In fact, the poem does not only seed the earth inside the poet's mind, but, indeed, in the minds of his readership. Which is what a great poem does. The poet's exceptional craftsman is attributable to the subtlety, simplicity and imagery which make the verse flow and speak for itself.

Reviews

[Lanny]

As I have lived almost my entire life within the embrace of the prairies, this poem is extremely generative for a reflective and nostalgic emotional journey to the heart of the existence of the essence of the prairie experience. The personification at the end only serves to complete the cycle of the everlasting nature of the reflective thread. Nicely done, and all the best,

Lanny