1 poem
by Rodney Nelson
behind the picture
I want to think of who walked that road in May
as doing it even now in some unnamed
and perfect country
my families’ children
I would have been among had I attended
that one-room school in their time
I want to do
what I did not
to see a ditch of flowers
on their way to it
so cannot remember
though I have tasted
sun and wind on my own
but the dusty children I am thinking of
are in the country of sentiment not on
a prairie that had needed no families
and will abide after me
I want to take
the earth of it in very hand and read what
it has to narrate
wait the May afternoon
at a river of it where beavers cannot
detect me
watching them play
listening in
on the day of the occurrent land itself