(stillness.)

canola, yellow and wondrously-winged
flies through our prairies.
clouds watch over yellow buds.
crooked fences are paint-chippedand aged dividers of our fields,

land and land

 made close like the rushed beehive is to the old tree.

withered branches rest across one another
with their un-hasty gratitude.

 

prairies soar in their stillness.