01-21-2023, 03:18 AM
You hide in a Midwest cornfield,
between wife & children
none of them musicians,
you love them anyway
This isn’t a town with a bucket
on a rope, but some here drag
their provisions with one—
others repair shutters,
paint them in opaque colors,
still others fall in disarray,
a consortium of streets
Most are safe within a general
definition of realism: winters
cold, dreams not too bold
There is a coffee cafe on Main,
one funeral home, five churches
people eventually visit all of them
at least once in their existence
Sparrows flock like prairie flowers,
adding a colorful song each evening
you sit mornings, facing west,
sun warm on shoulders, prayer
adding straight lines, drawing life
between wife & children
none of them musicians,
you love them anyway
This isn’t a town with a bucket
on a rope, but some here drag
their provisions with one—
others repair shutters,
paint them in opaque colors,
still others fall in disarray,
a consortium of streets
Most are safe within a general
definition of realism: winters
cold, dreams not too bold
There is a coffee cafe on Main,
one funeral home, five churches
people eventually visit all of them
at least once in their existence
Sparrows flock like prairie flowers,
adding a colorful song each evening
you sit mornings, facing west,
sun warm on shoulders, prayer
adding straight lines, drawing life