Poetry of Kansas


In the King's armor he troops
over the green fur of the prairie
to the trough of the Arkansas.
A red-tailed hawk cries
over the eye of a dustdevil,
and buzzards wheel above skulls
in the yellow evening.
Still he clings to the gold
thighs of his dream.
Quail's call sweetens the wind
as the horses drink.
At his gesture the noisy array
strikes back for a knoll to the south.
Leaves of bluestem grease water-
taut bellies as the sun fades
to a dark hide full of stars.
__Steven Hind
© 1997
In a Place With No Map
New and Selected Poems
Steven Hind
(Topeka: Woodley Press. 1997)
page 59
Used by permission
October 3, 2001 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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