As A Painter Would Paint The Winds Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

bluebonnets blow in the buffalo lands
and flowers whose names I never learned
I know their colours

as a painter would paint the winds through
the bluebonnets a paler shade of blue
and this is how the prairies roll on

without me
with me only imagining the skies
in spring must be the shade of prairie roses

and I gather them in my sleep
and I imagine their fragrance is better somehow
than the cultivated roses

I imagine this because I do not know
the names of the wildflowers and cannot
call the buffalo by name and I imagine the

blizzards and the buffalo turned to sugar cube sparkling
amazed in the drifts and the skies thoroughly filled
like a canvas I do not know I do not know I

do not know

mary angela douglas 21 february 2015