Prairie Seasons

Fresh buds bloom on the branches of a tree

green seeps into the brown of the prairies

reminding us the cold did not kill—free

from the frigid snow and angry flurries.

Summer shocks, with her temper flaring.

Searing the memory of Winter’s howl

Cooking us in a flat frying pan, burning

away Winter’s chilly embrace and growl


All day farmer’s tractors leave patchwork weaves

on land that can feel the harvest fervor

Orange, red, and yellow appear. Dead leaves

fall-shrouding the earth for Summer’s murder.


Winter charges in, along comes the snow,

The wind brushes the trees silent and slow.