a nebraska man in a nebraska land
mending his fences
boots and bib overalls
how carefully he weaves
he turns the dirt with his thick fingers
a ripe black earth
the smell of it
the taste of it, all of it
nebraska
the wide-rim sky
is his hat, he wears it like a daydream
and this canopy of alfalfa
his winter coat, his face
both frostbitten
and sunburnt
i’m not sure which came first
the man
or the land
i can’t separate the two
in any of my memories
is this a creation of his imagination?
or did these dandelions
image him?
a god walks down the sappa creek
as pheasant run between his feet
and a long nebraska wind
whistles and cymbals
thru the cornstalks and sunflower
waving their feathered petals
gold and green
posted for d’verse open link night
jalopy dreams 
I love this so much
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you jyp, how was your break? i’ve been sort of on and off break myself, so i still have a lot of catching up to do. i’ll have to stop your blog this weekend and see what you’ve been up to
LikeLike
“i’m not sure which came first / the man / or the land” – fantastic. “and a long nebraska wind / whistles and cymbals / thru the cornstalks” Pure gold.
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you sir, glad you enjoyed this
LikeLike
Beautiful, soothing, medicinal writing. More than ever before, there is a deep need for pieces like this.
I love the literal meaning but also the idiomatic, metaphorical layer of mending relationships.
This is a favorite for me, partially because it has musical undertones in my mind:
“he turns the dirt with his thick fingers
a ripe black earth
the smell of it
the taste of it”
Also this, and the lines that follow:
“or did these dandelions
image him”
Your writing reminds me so much of Brian Miller’s, which I have told him as well. I do hope you’ll keep posting regularly. Like I said: your work is medicinal.
LikeLiked by 1 person
glad you liked this shawna, yes, i put a lot of sound into this one… i like it, turned out ok i think. i don’t know who brian is, so i can’t comment on that, but as far as writing consistently, i can not promise that, i have to take breaks, i simple have to, that’s how i function. thanks again!
LikeLike
My senses came alive with your poem. It is very descriptive and lyrical – a gem to read tonight.
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you grace, glad you enjoyed it
LikeLike
This is just wonderful, Phillip. I could feel all the sensory elements coming through so strong. I love these lines in particular:
“the wide-rim sky
is his hat, he wears it like a daydream”
“a long nebraska wind
whistles and cymbals
thru the cornstalks and sunflower
waving their feathered petals
gold and green”
Love that ending 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you sunra, so glad you liked this… and i’ll stop by your blog here shortly
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Philip! You are most welcome 🙂
LikeLike
I absolutely love this especially; “a long nebraska wind whistles and cymbals thru the cornstalks and sunflower waving their feathered petals gold and green.” Kudos!
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you sanaa
LikeLike
that’s a capture, right there. ~
LikeLiked by 1 person
We could all use that connection with the land we inhabit. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
As others have said, Phillip, the imagery here is very alive and speaking. It reminds me of how I love the land I live in(even as I have learned to hate so many of its inhabitants) I look at the red dirt, the scrub oaks that will live through anything, feel that overbearing south wind and know part of me is part of that, like the figure in this poem is living most when he is an extension of the landscape.. Sorry to be MIA so much. I find a lot of times I just need to avoid the great Interwebs and their mind-spiders, which unfortunately means I miss poems like this.
LikeLiked by 2 people
“Sorry to be MIA so much” oh, don’t even fret over it, lately i’ve been the king of MIA
LikeLike