Sacred Heart-Throb

On a Kansas Hillside, 1961

On a Kansas Hillside, 1961 (Photo credit: A.Davey)

I long to see you laid out right. A hand-crafted quilt, apart from this thin stretch of cloudless skies, movable mountains, and lassitude. Give me the hand of the mother that is old. Consecrate the place of no more disdain, no more scattering of stones. My heart counts chickens ahead of time; In due time, my toes will laugh in the farmer’s soil and thick air that’s good for something. Tractors off their leash! A beauty no less bewitching than the cow’s eyelash or horse’s tail swishing mosquitoes round about the earth; the same one people shuffle atop, on last legs, to gazebos in September-wrapped sweaters, or love which is almost the same thing. I feel you, Kansas, pulling me into the hillside plot my mother picked for my father to sleep. Forever, and then some. Such a view.

Rugged land I love, you are my sacred heart-throb, limestone in the hills.



    • These are my thoughts swirling in my head, before I take another trip back to Kansas. Mom is having knee replacement, and though she will endure a bucket load of pain, we still look forward to seeing each other.

  1. This one was so beautiful, it gave me chills. In my humble opinion, that’s always a good sign that the writing’s on track.

    • So good to hear from you! Writing has been off-track lately, but I’m enjoying a change of pace visiting family in the Midwest. You always get such lovely photos from your travels! You are the skyscraper queen. Wish I’d had my camera more often than I did this week.

      • I hear you, Angie. My recent trip to the (Upper) Midwest shifted my writing patterns, as well. Hoping to get back into the groove this week or so.

        Hope all is well with you and yours.

        p.s. The skyscraper queen — love it. 🙂

  2. you can take the girl out of Kansas…. but not Kansas out of the girl. they’d do well to include this piece, were they to open the rules a bit ~

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