White Rock Road

One of the poems included in my chapbook "Right Hand Lane," a collection of work on rural life.

Trail white rock dust

across the hills and hollows

 

of my heart.

Feel wheat whispered

 

caress of yellow summer.

Linger in green palms

 

of alfalfa fields, counting

butterflies and clouds,

 

enticed by wind words written

in cradled blue.

 

Slip bare-skinned through

humid jungles of corn, tassles dancing

 

in hot prairie's breath.

Dance with them and remember

 

how home calls

in the dream pillows of midnight.

 

Inhale rich tastes riding

wine sweet mornings and come

 

wade in the knowledge of slow and easy.