Poetry of Kansas

Prairie Winter Morning

by Don Mock (copyright 2004)

Cold winter dawn,
eastern sky streaked with buttermilk
and roses;
snowy prairie strewn
with clumps of white boulders.
A boulder rises, first the small end,
then the larger;
others follow steaming at both ends
voiding the night's waste
and snorting into frosty air.
They are bison.
Behind distrustful eyes
they know not, nor would care,
    in what awe we behold them
nor of the role of their kind
    in ecology of the continent
and in history.
They are bison.
They belong.
(Manhattan: Soapweed Press. 2004)
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June 2, 2005 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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