Poetry

Kansas Day

Grand, brown woman,
saltwater bathed,
tidal wave charged,
shell and creature
washed into her pores.
Prismed crystals
of the ice gods
fingered and forged
a sculpted matron—
scape touching sky.

Lady Kansas
smiled at the wind
and nurtured another
seedling—remedy
for bruises and scars.

Kansas bore the world
zealots and statesmen,
artists and dullards,
natives and explorers.
She mothered them all.

We from her belly
stood on her chest
admiring her wholeness.
With our hands on her heart,
she completed us.

And if we stood
long enough on
any rise, we could see
Kansas, the terra firma
of time, breathe.

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