Lost Children of the Prairie

Some of the grandchildren of Ed and Amanda Meylor in the late 1960s.

 

Lost Children of the Prairie

 

Some rise like wheat,

hover between land and sky

despite drought and hail.

 

Some, like ripe seed heads,

are severed.

They float off to red stars on maps

like chaff

or bull thistles

or yellow mustard

that try to make do

in mud

or sand

or rocky places.

 

Like drifters,

who left sea villages

and mountain valleys

to settle here,

to uproot ancient prairie,

to grow children and grain

from need and desire.

 

And then watch it all blow away

with one mad

whirlwind of fire.

 

I wrote this for a writing class at a Brown evening course a few years ago and just found it. For some reason I can’t get the indents to work. Does anyone have any suggestions?

 

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