Prairie Path

Overgrown with wild grasses and shimmering foxtails,
The path no longer winds.
Buried in the prairie now,
It exists only in my mind.

Now I must trod it from memory
Without even leaving my chair,
Briefly consider life’s brevity,
Cross the space to childhood’s naiveté.
Consider life’s sweet, simple things.

I catch the glint of a dewdrop rainbow,
Hear the lilt of yellow throat’s song,
Smell the earth in the mild morning breeze,
Truly seeing the path as it was.

I walk down the trail with my dog, Pete
He stays close, but not for long.
Some creatures do not enjoy the chase
But jackrabbit does and gives him a race.

Then dog and rabbit part company
And he comes loping back to me
He’s panting and weary, rests for awhile
Then looks up at me and wags his tail.

There in the grass something catches my eye
Blue bells nodding on slender stalks
A favorite flower of my mom
A nice bouquet to take back home.

My short sojourn back to the path
Was cut short by the phone
But I can go back anytime
To the prairie path and the peaceful times. Doma 03/23/09