Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
prairiegrass dreams

Across the Sandhills
wading into the untamed Niobrara
barebacked.. brown,  and beautiful

Within her Misty Mountain dreams
she is heading my way.
Ah, sweet lord God almighty,
look at her go..

Westbound,  she is best-found

    right there..  on the edge
    of these dreams of my own

Oh my lord..
look at that beautiful horsedream  go
Will I be able to survive her..

  I don't know
.  .  .  

You feel him..  don't you, sweet one..
my beautiful Snickers
on that Gordon, Nebraska hill--
his home,  his birthplace..

Until his beautiful spirit
one day..  finally found me

Striated and stoic
he is waiting for you..
To bring, you
the rest of the way home.

North now,  into Dakota
as you bleed  
with the Lakhóta
on a trail,  split

   between Pine Ridge..
   and Wounded Knee.

Feel your war-torn  Spirit
melt  in to them
(you will not fall)

As you ride this black-maned  dream
just a bit further North..
towards a man, named Paul

Within my own,  I can feel you both

Ah hell, babe..
I can feel you all


hold on to your dream of this dream..
remember every-thing
https://youtu.be/fqCGidfNG0M


Rough draft, this feels inadequate
to the picture I want to convey.
His likeness is in the sixth frame shown,
and again, between the two  of her;

His eyes.. in the two, up close.
You will not go lonely

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3369599/snickers-on-a-hill/
xoxo

— The End —