Prairie

Are ships lying at anchor in a great sea.

PRAIRIE

A ripple of clouds in a sea of sundown,

Low tide of day ebbing at the horizon,

A bowl of night casting a shadow over the prairie,

And silver birds sleeping in the branches of the sky.

Diggers of the night-shift blotting a mine road,

The wind tossing a moon-shawl over the clover,

The prairie singing a song of silence,

And silver birds sleeping in the branches of the sky.