Poetry / Buffalo - October Rising
Driving southbound
I see October rising,
a broken sun to light hay bales
gathered across eastern pastures like buffalo
awakening as morning breaks the grey.
Summer is leaving green
on both sides of the highway,
and wild flowers have rooted the season
to this bit of Oklahoma.
The round bales steam in the cool of morning
as if they were mythic beasts breathing
vapors of the past into the dawn.
I want those dark round humps
to sprout sturdy legs
and the short curved horns of bison,
to snort and paw the earth
before rolling in a herd of shaggy thunder
ripping out barbed wire
and tearing down steel fence posts.
I would have them explode
a hundred thousand hooves beating
tractored rows and black asphalt
back into this southern edge of the plains,
erasing concrete footprints of a century.
And from the back of my running pony
hawk feathers braided in his mane,
I would watch them stampede
feeling the earth tremble
beneath my quick-footed hunting horse.
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This is delightful! I got such a fun rush, putting myself in your shoes…or on your pony, as the case may be. ;) I really don’t know how to judge what is “Western enough…” the overall spirit, to me, is of freedom and exhilaration. It’s very clear, so no concerns there. I really don’t want to nitpick it…I hope that’s ok?
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I am sorry if i sound overenthused but I am truthful in what I saw: This poem was possibly the best poem I have ever read. I find that the most important key to being a good poet is finding just the right words, and amazingly, you got every single one of those words. The imagery was phenomenal and I found myself lost in a whirlwind of imaginative thoughts produced by this enticing piece of literature. I know this may sound desperate, but I would be much obliged if you would add me and tutor me.
Delightful descriptive poem overflowing with nostalgia for beasts free to roam & stampede on the open plains. After reading a lot of other work that seems to be going nowhere your poem is a breath of fresh air. By deleting ‘would’ from your final sentence the reader is there with you, in the present tense witnessing the energy & power of mother nature.
wow. great descriptions. i can clearly see riding through a farming country in the early morning, and bison running in the planes. If your worried about it having a western tone, don’t. i really enjoyed the theme. (is a nice one) I’d love to see more work of yours. Keep it going.
i’m not much a fan of nature based poetry
but this has a clear strong meaning
and it’s well written
i’m attracted to any piece of writing that starts off with the word “driving,” but this my friend is an exceptional combination of words that continued to woo me from the start to finish- beautiful imagery, a soothing rhythm, i was right there the whole time. excellent. thank you.
ok this is truly an epic piece you could add a few extra words at key points in each stanza just rereview this piece and you’ll see what i’m talking about
other than that awesome work
For some reason it makes me think of the hunt for red october…
other than that, i really enjoyed this piece. It is surely western.
I had a small qualm with this line:
“a broken sun to light hay bales”
seemed like it needed two more syllables before hay bales
you could think of a nice rustic adjective for it.
heck rustic might even work. scattered, earth bound, earthly, prickly,
eh, you get the idea. I’m sure you could find a better word to put there anyway.
keep up the nice poetry.
d:- )
vapors of the past into the dawn. is an image not easily convayed – i tink its de word vapor. i belive ur tryin to say somn like viewing history thro a hazy imagination… if so, i dig de image but needs to be beter worded.
last line dosnt read well. coms to screetching hault.
excellent. a beautiful poem. nice imagry n nostalgic feel.
It is very publishable, I can say that, and good at what it does. It reads however, like prose, I had the sense that I was reading the opening to a novel, a very good opening I might add. With that said, I guess I hit the poetry section, or buy a book of it, in search of more esoteric verse, but this might be todays poetry of the masses. Good luck.
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