Enticing the wind to slide through its blades,
spilling and tossing it over like waves,
then sending it gently to soar with the birds
like a pillar, it stands towering over the earth.
Withered and worn, it’s splintered and torn;
it’s weathered the worst of the vast prairie storms,
Kicking the wind up, evoking the flames
or perhaps spinning fiercely to douse them with rain.
Hail, tornadoes and through the rainfall
the windmill has always been part of it all,
and though the time has weakened its sail
it stands like a sentry throughout every gale.
Watching the cars as they bustle by
it waves with a blade from its home in the sky,
‘keeps watch o’er the animals grazing the hills
A timeless reliance - the lonely windmill.