Submitted by Ronald E. Shields
A black bear rears up,
ponders the long ripple in the grass beyond,
the space of its wake in the grass behind.
A cold hard lamp comes on over the prairie.
Its echo shines through a window miles away.
The Lakota woman hands me a book
our fingers touch,
the footsteps of a thousand generations
pass beneath our feet.
Photo credit: Late Afternoon Prairie – Carlynne Hershberger
For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.
This is beautifully deep and beautifully written. I so enjoyed reading I read several times.
Anna :o]
Thank you Anna, I am so pleased you like this one.
~Ron
“The Lakota woman hands me a book
our fingers touch,
the footsteps of a thousand generations
pass beneath our feet.”
Chills! This is excellent!
Thank you Ann.
I liked the lamp’s “echo” shining through the window over the prairie.