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| "Flint Hills 1" by Thomas Pecore Weso |
Here is a sample poem and painting for the Runaway Pony event and chapbook. Do join us at 603 Tenn., Runaway Pony B&B.
FLINT HILLS LULLABY
“A landscape has its own spirit; it is neither dead nor alive.” Thomas Weso
My
grandparents still live here.
They
exist in grasses confused by western trade winds.
Even
before they died they were ghosts.
Their
lungs whooshed air of winter and summer storms.
The
land is neither dead nor living but something
else.
A third property. More.
White strata collapse into ruins at their moments of creation.
Processions
of thunderheads tumble through empty counties.
I
am alone here and I am caught in lay lines of gravity.
This
is my birth and death, my continuum beyond names.
When
space colors this place, that dark-moon hue of void,
may all
our bones lie together, at rest in the dark.