Driving to Galesburg by Ellen Stone

Mother says okay, okay
all across the prairie
steadying herself
her brain wrapping
around white barns, silos,
distance like black locust
fence posts or this barbed
wire gathering in the sheep.

These barns look new
she says, and I say, no.
No, they have always
been here – thinking
of her disappearing
over years, slipping
by. These numbered
markers tracking us.

It’s so large, she gasps.
Of the sea of corn.
Of the sky’s tumult.
Of the grassy, plumey
world, waving & wind
whipped, a wild mare –
frayed mane, tail glowing
behind her like a flag,
or some kind of signal.

From: http://mayapplepress.com/what-is-in-the-blood-ellen-stone/

Date: 2020

By: Ellen Stone (19??- )

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