But like remorse the prairie grass seeks emptiness, increases in its sleep, gets even with the fragrant, stoic sage. Oh, it is witless and blind. It cannot remember what it was doing with all that wind. It waits for a thimbleful of rain. It populates such distances it must be brave but prairie grass bends down in sorrow to be so lost, and like remorse feels so nearly endless it cannot ever stop. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING IN NEW HAMPSHIRE by CLAUDE MCKAY IF IT WERE NOT FOR YOU by HAYDEN CARRUTH PARAGRAPHS: 9 by HAYDEN CARRUTH ONE OF THE LEAST OF THESE, MY LITTLE ONE' by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO OUR MOCKING-BIRD; DIED OF A CAT, MAY, 1878 by SIDNEY LANIER |