Thursday, July 14, 2016

Windmill Country

I live to the west of windmill country,
I’m a knight on a quest through windmill country.

Flights of white pelicans dazzle in sun
and course the river’s breast in windmill country.

The highway climbs the bluffs to the south
and winds to the crests of windmill country.

Hawks ride invisible roads of air,
can they pass the tests of windmill country?

Power lines write a brand new history
across the palimpsest of windmill country.

Will salmon ever run unchained to the ocean
freed by the harvest of windmill country?

The world is my home, my house is my clothing.
I’m overdressed for windmill country.

Let me dervish-spin, growl and hum:
that’s my request of windmill country.

Let me see and see for a hundred miles
what God has blessed in windmill country.

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside

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