As A Painter Would Paint The Winds

bluebonnets blow in the buffalo lands

and flowers whose names I never learned

I know their colours

as a painter would paint the winds through

the bluebonnets a paler shade of blue

and this is how the prairies roll on

without me

with me only imagining the skies

in spring must be the shade of prairie roses

and I gather them in my sleep

and I imagine their fragrance is better somehow

than the cultivated roses

I imagine this because I do not know

the names of the wildflowers and cannot

call the buffalo by name and I imagine the

blizzards and the buffalo turned to sugar cube sparkling

amazed in the drifts and the skies thoroughly filled

like a canvas I do not know I do not know I

do not know

mary angela douglas 21 february 2015