Today she laid all her goods before him;

from the soft wind through the drying corn

making its whoosh whoosh whoosh

alongside his footsteps,

to the soaring cottonwood tree

whose branches thick and strong

compel the creek below to flow.

There is no one here with too much money

nothing complicated or dirty—

only the sound of occasional voices

from the small white houses

beside the tall silver silos.

Even the politics are simple:

be good my friend;

do good my neighbor,

and that creek will flow

through your straight rows

even when it’s dry.

 

karenhansonpercy