Prairie Mind

Knee high
To a spider’s eye.
A dormant lie.
A rippling cry.

Wading shallow water,
Deacon’s daughter
Wringes and rinses
The skirt he bought her.

The day is early.
The wind is whirling.
Sheets unfurling
On the line.

The breezes pine.
The creek sparkles sweetly
Serene, so neatly.
Through my mind

Flickers fine.
I sit discretely,
Snapping time.
Day’s on the vine.

Refresh the feeling.
Push up the ceiling.
All ways appealing.
A day refined.

In larger scheme,
How it may seem,
I hope this moment
Not be a dream​.