on midsummer day over fields greening with wheat,
on midwinter day over
white snow blanketing the earth.
Broad blue sky goes end to end from horizon to horizon,
notched only by small town roofs or spires of city skyscrapers.
(On the prairies they don’t have to be tall to scrape the sky.)
Sky ~ wide azure blue back drop for
red-tailed hawk and the red winged black bird,
curlews and meadowlarks.
But what’s this?
In the western corner of this broad blue canvas a puff of grey builds.
Flag of white stretches before it.
Sky fills with clouds of thunder gray
churning into black and ominous green.
Air bright with light, pierced by bird song
hushed with gathering storm.
The gentle blue sky will take it all up.
Soon the glorious sky is blackened, white streaks threatening hail.
Bluffs and trees bend in the wind bowing right and left to
the town on the horizon
the city on the horizon
all coloured over with wet grayness.
In shards and sheets,
lightning is chased onto the prairie by claps of thunder,
making me hold my ears and squint my eyes.
And then ~ in the western corner
a wedging patch of blue, narrow and hesitant,
pushes the heavy wet clouds forward with the winds.
Sky ever expanding, moves chastened clouds to the east.
The dampened scent of the rain has cleaned dust from the air.
Air in the sky, once again broad and blue,
holds space for curlews and red-tailed hawk,
red winged black birds and meadow larks.
Peace has returned to the prairies.
“The little reed, bending to the force of the wind,
soon stood upright again when the storm had passed over.”
~ Aesop
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