FOLK COLLECTION 11: The Skaggs Foundation Cowboy Poetry Collection

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Book Title

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Author

Poem Title

First Lines

Keywords

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Motes

Motes, in the sunstream, drifting, lolling twirling on unseen currents of random movements and restless thoughts. Motes, becoming dust, swept up and tossed off my porch, on and into silent beds of iris,

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

The Fledgling

Tentatively, at safety's edge, from deep within its ashen keep, the fledgling seeks an ancient pledge.. you cannot fly if you dare not leap.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

I Dreamt of Hawks

I dreamt of hawks. Three on the breeze before me and one quietly brooding in the shadows of a long tree at the far end of the glen. One pair mottled dark, settled on fence posts nearby left, a third,

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Will-o-the-Wisp

Fey in the night busy working a wedge, fussing their visions through rush and sedge. Ancient desires on a distant edge, beckoning will-o-the-wisp. Rising o'er fen in the evening haze, raising its head in a fireblue gaze.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Pan's Respite (a moment of solace)

shhh sighed the rain, stippling stone and leaf litter. shhhh comes the call, on a breeze light as breath. shhhh he sleeps. he sleeps...drowse as ye may. shhhh

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Killin' the Wind

Up to here with its ceaseless scream, he calmly climbed out his bunk, loaded his pistol and strolled thru the door. Glacing up at the roiling skies he commenced shooting, willy-nilly, into the belly of the heavens.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

The Ritual

Early. Out on the porch, his thumb and forefinger gently curled the can and tapped it curtly against the heel of his left hand. Twisting the lid, counter clockwise, (always counter clockwise) he pinched the ffirst drip of the day

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Windbreak Nails

Might be, it's the wind works them out. Might be, the constant jostling of anxious cattle battering the weathered planks, pries and plucks them from their chores. Then again, after decades of overtime drudgery.. might be it's time for a break

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Frustration

To the west, rain brooms, blue, in a butte~sweeping frenzy, settle dust and drown hopes of ever getting this damn hay put up.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

On a Wheatfield in July

Sad. Like an old circus poster left hanging in the wind. Frayed and forlorn. A mere dust-muted hint of glory missed...Hope, here, is doled out in tenths of an inch.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Bunch Quitter

There's always one. can't take the wire I guess. Always, pushin' out and away. Cuss 'em in, it won't matter. turn your back..they're gone. somedays, sometimes, I get to watchin' the wire myself..wondrin'

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

September

gathering her greens. Sparsing out yellows and reds from her bag of tricks as a reminder the long, cold sleep is coming, coming, coming and you'd best be gathering greens of your own.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Tired

Of being on the edge of not quite there he hung up his rope for good, or ill, it did not matter for, once the winds blowed out, the empty of it all will kill you if you don't move on. That much he knew.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Burnt Dust

Burnt dust. First real sign fall's here. Softly acrid, always arriving early, before sunrise, when the furnace phumps in, grudgingly annoucing, summer's turned south. time to open trunks and air out quilts.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

My Grandfather's Heart

There are days when my grandfather sneaks up behind me and breathes life into the failing memory of his spirit. A mingling of worked earth and new mowed hay that wakes his heart in mine and leaves me grinning, knowing, I'll probably go just like him.. content, fulfilled, willing and waiting for the harvest.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Autumn

The barrel, a thirty ought six, rests lightly on the branch, patiently waiting the doe. The branch, uncaring, pays no mind, as it currently has nothing better to do. Done with a season's budding and blooming, flowering to fruiting, it is time to let leaves slips.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Ingvar

Ingvar Christian Bolstad Grothe, bachelor, brother and best friend of my father,left little behind, the homestead farm, tractor, grain truck, plows seeders, along with your basic household of table, chairs, bed and dresser

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

October

Revel or rail. I am the herald of harvest done. September insinuates. I demand. Listen.. You are like leaves, riding my wings, only to land and scurry in stubble.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

November 24

Clouds. Sylphlike, lean wings seducing the moonhaze, from heaven's edge to snowcrust..quiet sleeps the wind in the passing sight, as the Lord of autumn fulfills his right to bring the slumber of winter's night.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

The Moon is Falling

Walking one late night, November. An indigo sky so deep it defies the heart. Mid a litter of starspeck a slip of s sickle casts its pale offering.. enough..just enough to catchlight the frost drifting off the boughs of an old cedar.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Skoal

Standing off my porch, surrounded by the season's first blizzard, I raise my goblet. A scarlet heart of chokecherry wine, capturing a few wayward flakes, lost in their fury. Snow wine.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Solstice (Deep)

It has to start here or not all all. The final hour wich mourns the passing of light. Clinging to shadows, hallowed in the paths of the moon, the long night rises, surveys its domain, then nods never knowing its day has come.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Moonsong

There was the night she sang the moonsong. A melody so rich its like had not been heard since her great, great a~thousand~times~great, grandmother offered up the first prayer to her mother in the sky. IT was in the key of life and kept to the temp of a newborn's heart after first milk.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

A Charlie Creek Christmas

It was Christmas in the Badlands an' the moon was shinin 'bright- so I figgered dear ol'Santa wouldn't need no exter light when the come across the prairie an 'down the coulees deep- to drop me off my presents while I was sound asleep-

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

DW Groethe

Winter 1903

There lies Dakota Bleak, bitter cold. Home for the heart with an iron soul. Even the star gleam icy cold.. and listen to the wind blow. One lone cabin carved from sod leans in the prairie like a joke on God. and they don't talk any more 'n a nod.. and listen to the wind moan.