I suck on the tender shoots of sweet grass as I contemplate “My Prairie,” a homestead of thoughts with a tie to the pastoral life of calves and cooks and kitchens and corn silk. I read through Black Elk Speaks and studied the vision quest of Crazy Horse. I walked in the feathery, rough rhythm to the whispering of the native grasses and the sound of the tractor. I embraced the prairie life as a child would, fearful of butchering day, but unafraid to eat its slaughter.
"Look with me . . . in feathered awareness . . . ."
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Monday, January 28, 2008
THE EDSOL MODEL, 1916
Faded flowers frame the tiny, tin‑type coffin of the boy who died.
Nebraska at Al Ain, United States, The Great Plains, United Arab Emirates
Beverly Merrick writes poetry for the mountains, the rivers and the plains. Because of her upbringing on accretion ground by the Platte River in rural Nebraska in a farm adjacent to Fort Kearny and years as a grassroots, environmental official up Cannons Creek Hollow in Appalachia, Dr. Merrick's work represents a wide spectrum of true rural values and customs.
Carolyn Page, Editor
Nightshade Press
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