Poetry of Kansas

Prairie Substitutes

Shut in a shack on the prairie,
    Travel is not for me;
So I pretend the waves of wheat
    Are the sea.
I read of the French Revolution
    To the windmill's creaking fret;
Its skeleton shadow a guillotine's
I never shall visit Venice;
    But a rain pool gives back the moon
And scattering lights; I think it is like
    A lagoon.
I should like to see the Madonnas
    Raphael's and the rest;
But it is sweet just to sit with my babe
    At my breast.

May Williams Ward
page 50
(Atlanta: The Bozart Press. 1929)

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September 5, 2004 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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