Prairie In My Pocket

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.