Prairie Fire

I am the one who has come to Nebraska to try my hand at taming this land. I stand on the hill to survey my domain.

I am the one who looks to the horizon. A black wall stretches across the sky, moving ever closer to my land.

I am the one who fights with the land. I dig through the grass sod, not willing to relinquish my land to the fire, desperate for a fire break.

I am the one who runs to the river my wife. Our animals run across the river, released from barns, pens and coops.

I am the one who restrains my wife as our home begins to burn. I hold her while she cries and watch our possessions, memories, life crumble in ashes.

I am the one who staggers out of the river to the burnt shell of my house. I sink to my knees while my wife searches for bits of our past.

I am the one who stands on the hill, looking at Nebraska. I can see the steady heart of the land, the steady beat beyond our control, beyond us, beyond time.

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