And one day I saw my life under the open sky
and the open sky was orange and the wind
came up from behind the trees that stood
like sentinels before the mountains, and
both trees and mountains were close enough
to touch even though they were thousands
of miles away. It was the prairie grass that
bent and swirled and bowed before the wind
without yielding and that day I knew that
when I was not the wind I would be the grass.
—
Marc Thompson lives and writes in Minneapolis MN where he keeps himself busy as the stay-at-home dad of a thirteen-year-old boy, writing poems, and doing volunteer work. He has an MFA from Hamline University and his poems have appeared around the world in journals and in cyberspace. He is the author of two chapbooks: Ordinary Time (Laughing Gull Press) and Oklahoma Heat (Redmoon Press).
Very nice! I like how the last line ties it all together.