The Sky Above Grand Forks Poem by Ray Mesa

Wind hits the window as I wake up from a alarm
There is a calm wind over the hills of my farm
My phone rings as the clock says 9: 11
Who the hell is 701-610-3117?
I throw it on a pillow and walk away

Calm wind runs through my home like a ghost
Struggeling to find his own
The moon is still visable even at 9: 30 am
The house now smells of fresh eggs and ham
Butter, Milk and Pork
I've yet to get ready for work
But before I go I look out for one last glimpse
Of the pleasent sky above Grand Forks

Gravel roads and the common deer
is all I see for miles
cans of beer
Bullet hole Hunting signs
Along the road sides
I watch the landscapes to pass the time
Baby mares, Bunch of hares, Running wild to get there share
Going though this countryside without a care
this is my Simple old world without hate anger or rage
Just the sound of a motor running across a open field
Like the sound of a man without a good enough meal
No stop signs on my road of life, I never have to yield
As the city grows closer to me, I try to focus on the yards of grass
Rather then deal with dollar bills or brass
On the road of greed, I'll finish in last

The trees brush along into the wind
There is so much, It resemebles a poet's trash bin
Piled along the edges like doimnos
She's my country land, And I'm mighty fond of her
As I reach closer to retierment and Champange corks
I try one last time to enjoy the calm sky above grand forks