Soaked with New Poetry

A solitary bison ambles
from the grassy horizon
to the grassy foreground.

The mountains are to my left
and the ocean of grass
goes on and on to my right.

The bison maneuvers me
as I avoid his large head
daring not to run

back stepping
until I trip on a rock
and fall into a dry creek bed.

John the Baptist
of great American bison
announcing a return.

Thunder tremors the earth
below a cloudless sky
and I shake because all things shake

as a dust cloud
blots the horizon line
and I scatter the sandy bottom

and move up stream
to get out of the way
of the stampede to convert.

copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney

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