The beautiful prairie
Let’s Keep It Clean
Along railroad tracks to old abandoned farms, / we’d search for treasure and hunt for charms. / Coins and pop bottles and old license plate…
Just a glimpse of my very rural, prairie childhood. A typical summer day, my Brother and myself, the other “town” kids and usually our family dog would set out early in the morning, and return home around supper time, spending all day exploring and daydreaming.
AND THROW IT OUT THE WINDOW OF A MOVING CAR
any godamned SUGGESSTIONS? / sweating faded and stuck in the corner holding a wilted platic flower.
I’m over the moon today. / My Image “Crocuses” placed 2nd in a Town Giants group challenge and was featured in the group. !http://ima…
Thank you to the “Fabulous Prairies” group for featuring my photo “Sunset Road Reflections”. I truly appreciate the honor!
Thank you to the moderators of the “Fabulous Prairies” group for featruing my photo “Sunset Road Reflections”. I truly appreciate the re…
Regina… it always sounded like a bad word no matter how she pronounced it. She knew the origin, named for the Queen of England, Regina, a…
Excerpt of a novel I am working on. Welcome comments and critiques.
Coal black soil as parched as time / (opposed to that which stands alone) / accumulating moist returns / from patchwork patterns of the air….
A poem about my beloved, blind Grandmother who missed seeing her prairies.
Orphaned footsteps round the old place. / Pitch black soil, packed deep with bartered / coin and Indian heads – wood and otherwise, coat…
This poem is one i wrote about my great-grandparents homestead in the country, the log home they built as homesteaders on the manitoba prairies, the place i went to as a child and loved to take in in every single way possible: it was so rich, rich and full. I wrote this about my last visit there a few years ago, and how i felt while i was there…conflicted – like and outsider, but at the same time, home.
I am young; maybe ten or eleven years old. There is a light wind, as always, blowing scents / of sage and sky across / the vast prairi…
A poem i wrote about a past life i am certain I lived: of this little girl in black braids, a vision, image, knowing i have had burned into my very being all of my life…
“Above all else, one must respect the prairie’s need / for more.” K.R The prairie’s child is born with veins, / of hollow gras…
This is my ode to my wind-born roots. I am a born and bred prairie girl, and wind has always been my element; my lover; my soul, so this poem is born of myself, and all that blows through me. it is a poem of a love of Freedom and open spaces.
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