Harold Hart Crane

(21 July 1899 – 27 April 1932 / Garrettsville, Ohio)

The Great Western Plains - Poem by Harold Hart Crane

The little voices of the prairie dogs
Are tireless . . .
They will give three hurrahs
Alike to stage, equestrian, and pullman,
And all unstingingly as to the moon.

And Fifi's bows and poodle ease
Whirl by them centred on the lap
Of Lottie Honeydew, movie queen,
Toward lawyers and Nevada.

And how much more they cannot see!
Alas, there is so little time,
The world moves by so fast these days!
Burrowing in silk is not their way --
And yet they know the tomahawk.

Indeed, old memories come back to life;
Pathetic yelps have sometimes greeted
Noses pressed against the glass.


Comments about The Great Western Plains by Harold Hart Crane

  • Bronze Star - 2,966 Points Smoky Hoss (2/24/2015 7:47:00 PM)

    Tragic yet nostalgic picture of the passing of the great American West, that so few even care about. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: sometimes, moon, world, time, dog, memory



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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