North Dakota,6: 35 P.M.
Dark clouds now,
Blotting out the sun,
Peeping from behind mountain tops,
Announcing Dusk? Rain?
Black clouds over painted canyons,
The North Dakota Badlands.
Suddenly, box cars creeping through
Mountain trails.
Oil wells!
Drilling! Drilling!
On the other side, they said,
Of Teddy Roosevelt's National Park...
A herd of wild horses scatter!
Buffalo!
Deer!
Elk!
I wish we could stop to walk the
Fields of this scenic view...
A lone horse and rider I see...
How quickly I lose sight of them
As they gallop homeward to the red house
On a distant hill...
7: 15 P.M. Dickinson, North Dakota
Rain! !
Someone rejoiced!
Dorothy Alves Holmes
A Poet Who Loves To Sing
1977
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem