Girl of the Plains
The sky is angry
And the girl of the plains
Waits quietly on the porch
She sits perched on the railing
The rain oozing from the dark clouds
Onto her curly mane
She watches
And waits
For the calm
The stillness
That precedes the eruption
The monster of the skies
Growls its warning
To the people of the wheat
Hide in your bathtubs
Your closets
Under the stairs
Cower in corners
And under beds to escape the unpredictable
The clouds begin to glow
A soft and iridescent orange
The farmers know so well
They look to the heavens
Their dirt covered faces
Silently pleading for a pardon
Not my crop
My home
My sweat and blood
For the tireless soil
That is embedded beneath my nails
And in the crevices of my hands
Spare this man
Save this soul
But the wind knows no heart
No mercy
Or solitude
Its destruction descends from the skies
In the shape of a funnel
Dark and brooding
It knows no path
And provides no reason
Because saved or not
Mother nature is upon you
And the burden of the moment
Hangs around your neck
And the little Kansas girl on the porch
Feet bare
And calloused
And beaten
Moves not an inch
As the monster draws near
Her stringy hair falls flat
And the trees cease to blow
And the dog begins to whimper
But she moves not an inch
Because this little Kansas girl
Descended from the dirt
And the small town
Is tied to the land
And the wind
And the soil that is permanently smeared
On her freckled face
And caked beneath her fingernails
Show knows no fear
Because the plains will call her home.
Ghost of the Tall Grass
Page 4A
Next to the sick and the elderly
Is you
The girl of the plains
Captured in printed word
A desperate attempt to preserve
That which so easily slipped through humanity’s fingers
The wind
The dirt
And the land
Have claimed you
Taken you for their own
A ghost of the tall grass
And red soil
Mamma cries for you
And the villagers mourn your absence
With vigils
And prayers
To a god whose motives remain quiet
And subdued
It is you
The young ones, who are
Intertwined with tragedy
Speeding along in a pickup
Toward the mouth of the plains
Ready to swallow
You
Up.
