just when you think
it can blow no harder
it wails
maddened red-dirt furies
clawing through your hair
infiltrating your eyes
mouth, nose, pores
this is flat land
rugged
uncaring
infrequent rains
barely beating back a desert
you can see for miles
miles of nothing
but sometimes wheat
green in the winter
golden in the summer
it's gone
they burn it off
our lungs seer
then the heat really comes
summer on the plains
is a moist furnace
a mirage assembling
maddening burner
we dodge it in the gloam
it lingers late
meets us early next morn
winter's no kinder
the wind
it's an icy scythe
that cuts through you
this is flat land
merciless
rugged
it's in our character
Author notes
Found this on a paper while cleaing house. I wanted to get it off the paper, but in so doing I realized how rough it is.
Comments
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Thank you both for taking the time. 'Gloam' as in twilight. When the sun goes down the temp drops.
I did not know about the title. The title was just an afterthought. I think that is the reason Colorado is so appealing to me, a flatlander, because the mountains are like alien terrain, beautiful and a little claustrophobic. -
Did you mean 'gloom' in the first line of the seventh stanza, or is this 'gloam' as in gloaming? Hey, I know where you are coming from in this write. It is very, very good. You have given voice to those who have been shaped by "miles and miles of wheat green." Only a southwesterner would know what a beautiful smell that is. "Flatland" is a descriptive, that is used by the German writerThomas Mann in The Magic Mountain, to designate those who have yet to know the awakening experience of rhe mountain. Perhaps someone from Colorado will write about that.
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It is quite rough. But I enjoyed it quite a bit, more intellectual than a lot of other stuff on here. I do enjoy the moist furnace line, I felt it got the mood across excellently. So upon revision I would definitely keep that line there. Good job.
Kingfogger
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