MIDWESTERN, FAR WESTERN MIRAGE

 to my Grandfather, with love, Milton Barkus Young

there's storms in the plains

and the wind sails through

and the lost and the ghostlands

are making do too

and the rail fence is busted.

the cows won't come home

black stars in the loaming

won't leave me alone

my heart's in the midwest

my lingering sky, my soul's in the far west

with snows bound to fly

and sweep like a new broom

the clouds bye and bye

my dreams are all restless

the air is so new

and vast and archetypal

in all shades of blue

the scrub and the sagebrush

seem long overdue.

I'm turning folkloric

and long for the West

the mythical sagas

that I learned the best

by heart and by dreaming

the long ride is through

yet still I keep crooning:

those strawberry moons...

mary angela douglas 24 june 2023