Citadels Of The Prairies Poem by David Harris

The citadels of the prairies
stand majestic in the horizon,
their white fingers
beckoning out to heaven,
as they stand silent
for all the world to see.
Some men have climbed them
to get closer to heaven,
others have failed
and their bones lay bleached white
wherever they fell.
The air is cool and crisp
around the citadels
that stretch up to the sky.
They are a home to many creatures
including little birds that fly.
They are at war with no one
as they stand silent and still
fingers beckoning to heaven
as evening begins to chill.

6 August 2008