Prairie Morn

Prairie Morn

by LlamaMama

Rectangular Angus
Silhouettes stand still
On bluff’s brow, black
Against frozen horizon’s
Sunrise pastels.

Twisted trees bow
Stiffly, graciously:
Aged gentlemen
In dusty disguise.
Grass gesticulates
In perpetual dance;
Oil rigs slowly nod
Heavy heads, like large,
Sagacious mantises.

One wee sparrow chirps,
Then another
Takes up the tune;
No dawning day lacks
Their merry greeting:
Morning mercies,
Creator’s gentle gift
In fragile birdsong.

Arm over arm,
Steel giants swim
Synchronized
In heights of blue,
Shred clouds to thin ribbons
In silence.
They pause,
Then lift their arms anew,
Surrendered to caprices
Of wind;

Wind that would rather slap
With frosty fingers
Than caress the face;
Nature’s impish child:
Feral, fierce,
Reluctant to rest.

Cracked asphalt road
Bends round, wraps over
Parched prairie hills
Like a weathered
Garden hose tossed
Carelessly
Onto yellow backyard grass.