Prairie Drought

Wind-blown grit
the parched field
a meadowlark
in the wheat stubble
whistles for feed

little for her
the barefoot girl
in a dusty pinafore
squinting for a photo

my mother
the child

hears
bedtime ghost hooves
dark distant thunder
moan of brittle wind

hears
before sleep, the ghost
blue egg break
in the nest

meadowlark cry
reaching for the deaf ear
blood sky.

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