The meadowlark’s trebling melodies compliment the syncopated calls of the insects
and the prairie dog’s chirp
the high whistling notes of the wind weave in between all of these
during the gentle calm of the first movement.
I am caught up in this as I am taken into
a time past
and I hear the grumbling bass notes of the oxen as they slowly meander
down the rutted dirt road
pulling a creaking wooden wagon
holding the worldly possessions of those
who have decided to seek their fortunes west
Tin washtubs and pots clang like cymbals during a vigorous Sousa march
but fades out and back into the meadowlark’s solo
the percussive sounds of hooves pounding on the hard, dry earth
a running buffalo herd signals the new movement
the wind picks up and adds its own scream
as the clouds darken
thunder rumbles
and I am caught up in the bombastic climax
and long after the last note has faded and I am back in the here and now
with its modern music
the symphony of the Plains stays
it’s earthier and natural song a comfort
over the cold, impersonal, mechanical concerto of our modern life
©2012 Katherine Kramer
Originally posted on February 26, 2012 for a link-up/prompt Sunday Scribblings.
“Tin washtubs and pots clang like cymbals during a vigorous Sousa march.” My favorite line.
I went right there with you, Kathy. And I only say that about half the time. You should do something with this one.
Thanks! I’ve been thinking about it, but I’m not sure if I want to save it and include it with something I want to self-publish or submit it to a journal or literary mag.
Thanks. I’ve been thinking about doing that myself. I’m torn between saving it and adding it to something I want to self-publish or submitting it to a literary journal.
Lovely! I live in the middle of cornfields in Iowa, so this is my song, too.
Wonderful Imagery.
Hey Georgina totally stole my comment! Loved the pictures this painted in my head. So good.
Well, I pulled the “trigger” and submitted this to a quarterly literary journal called Fine Lines. I did a little polishing. Things are looking good. They asked for a head shot. The next issue won’t be out for a few months, and I haven’t been officially accepted, but I got my fingers crossed. (Fine Lines is based out of Omaha, Nebraska.)