beneath a Saskatchewan sky

the yellow wheat fields

are endless beneath the cloudy morning

zigzagging and swaying in the strong wind

the land glows topaz and amber

with poplar trees rising from the soil

a flock of geese heads south

tracing the arc of autumn

the birds follow an ancient path

my eyes cannot see

but here, where there is not one city light

moose and deer graze

on rain-drenched grasses

a herd of bison gallops across the river

to the drumbeats of the ancestral land

hummingbirds and woodpeckers

trill among the bees and bugs

i do not disturb the silence

not with a hunting gun

not with my boots and jacket

instead,

i remind myself

that i am only a visitor here*

i tread lightly,

taking my trash with me

beneath a Saskatchewan sky,

the wind erases my footprints

as it has erased countless others before,

leaving only the land

to remember

*Inspired by the poem:  INSTRUCTIONS BEFORE VISITING EARTH
by James McCrae

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- OpenLinkNight - Join us when the virtual pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Saskatchewan is a province in Western Canada.   I visited last week and I enjoyed my time under the prairie sky.

the show, the frontman, at their very best

 

when the showlights are blazing bright

its time to put on cryptic smile

your inked arms are love letters, sight

on your fighter's stance.  this trial-

your art, your music are your knights

to knock down the rumors with style-

your band is the greatest- that's right 

(&) you're the best - chameleon with guile

waxing the theatre floor with green

grass, crooning to sky of shadows

there's a mirror of you, not clean

shaven, but stark naked, no prose

to mask real fear, loss, the scene

to question our life's highs and lows 

there are no answers in the screen

we left, beating hearts, with caws from crows

In response to the poem, When I'm among the Blaze of Lights

by Siefried Sassoon

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Dead Poet's Society, hosted by Kim M. Russell.

Join us when the pub doors open by 3pm EST.

Sign post by the sea

He woke up with storm             {seeds} in his mouth 

It tasted glitttery loud as birds. Brewing 

                                                                 with <wild possibilities>. 

His eyes gleamed with excitement of moon flowers.  Whatever known can wait,

But this intangible stillness cannot 

                                                           even if his legs were shaking with vertigo

Hands trembling, he grabbed his coat.  The freezing wind recoiled & fluttered as fallen tulip 

petals.    The sky was cleaning 

               out the                     stars &          last quarter               moon.

The crucible weighed on his chest, 

awaiting

                   the pouring by his hand.

                                                                                                      >>>>>       Instead

He went to sea                  in a thimble of poetry.

Credit:  “He went to sea in a thimble of poetry.”- Poet Warning, Jim Harrison

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:   Songs of the Unreason hosted by Linda Lee Lyberg.  Thanks for the visit and comments.