the Plains way

“I am safe in calling this a single herd,
but it is impossible to approximate the
millions that composed it. It took me
six days on horseback to ride through it.”
	—George Anderson in an 1871 letter

Over the sod,
They trod, they trod.
Over the sod, they trod.

Huge buffalo herds
By the hundreds of thousands,
Over the sod, they trod.

Vast buffalo herds
Of a million or more,
Over the sod, they trod.

Hard buffalo hooves—
How many millions?—
Wearing away the sod.

Hard buffalo hooves
Wearing a way
Over the sod they trod.

Poem title from chapter 29 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.

To see a buffalo herd like that–how amazing would that be? And now for the last of my poems for Monty Vern’s Silver Lining June collaboration, in which the last words of each line are the key words, in order, of the given quote. Peace to our s!

[“The day is done, and the darkness / Falls from the wings of Night, / As a feather is wafted downward / From an eagle in his flight“ from “The Day is Done” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow]

Something New Under the Sun

~after Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Again a demoralizing day:
Dearheart, will you never be done
Fraternizing with darkness,
Letting stumbles lapse into falls,
“Forgetting” you have wings—
A goose in the noose of Night?

Dearheart, dust off your feathers!
The next time temptation wafts
Your way, enticing you downward,
Soar up swiftly, like the eagle.
Again and again—take flight!

“Three Brief Lessons on Worms”

Building on the idea, mentioned in my first post, that as a newbie blogger I’m like a baby bird learning to fly, I herewith present my very modest collection of birds.

It’s a like affair that goes back at least to eighth grade, when I won an essay contest with a short piece on a bird flying over fields and valleys. That’s it, just flying. Perhaps the competition wasn’t that stiff. :)

Peace to your !

Three Brief Lessons on Worms

A bird is a worm eater;
Ergo, a worm is a bird feeder.

the early worm
how quickly it becomes
the late worm

The rain, a worm
Curved like a question mark:
Food for my children, a robin

© Stephanie Malley
[This poem was published in the 2018 issue of the Loyalhanna Review.]