Prairie Poems

So these are the poems that I wrote in Kansas. The first is just basically me in the moment sitting in the grasses and the other was for our project about space. These are totally rough and I had them workshopped today and had suggestions made. But I want to get feedback on here before I really mess with them. So I guess just leave comments or suggestions! Happy reading :)

 

I.

Endless grasslands. Purple flowers and rosemary shaped stalks. Tall grasses and short stems. Bison, grazing on the horizon. My hair blowing in the wind, it shaping itself to me like a caress. A small pond in the distance shows its glassy surface to the ever-present sky. Trees dot the rolling hills of this Kansas landscape. The quiet of the moment broken by the whispering grasses, telling their story. The clouds are standing still, as if they would rather be in this place than any other.

II.

I’ve walked in oceans

In forests

I never see the things around me like the fish and the trees

The birds and whales sing of my passing but I don’t acknowledge them

I let the current carry me past the walls of coral and the trees to lean me over the fall

I make no notice of myself in these places, only that I am these places

I never question my need to be the current or the tree

I never question your need for four walls and a dog

I just accept that you do

You are the lamp post and the upholstered chair

I am the leaf on the ground and the seaweed

About these ads
1 comment
  1. Elizabeth, I just focused my comments on the first poem: I love the listing and that the first verb is the wind acting upon your hair. In the first one, I had some problems with “endless grasslands” maybe because that trip emphasized the taking over of the space of grassland by farmland. Plus the rest of the poem evokes the feeling of endlessness without needing that word. I enjoyed the tone of the poem, and how minimal the I-voice was, it was simply observing all these actions of the prairie, which I appreciated. The space of the prairie seemed to overwhelm the “ego” of the narrator.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

%d bloggers like this: