At dawn, in the distance, a kitchen radio slips
commodity prices through a screen door
into a farmyard, echoing off the metallic green
of a behemoth 18-row combine set to lumber
out past the dry skeletons of irrigation pivots,
onto the gravelly road which today is blockaded
by vast hordes in migration, all bright Painted
Lady butterflies fluttering towards the tangle
of native prairie acreage where I volunteer
to hand gather Illinois Bundleflowers seeds
shaped like wrinkled bicameral hemispheres,
once mixed into hallucinogenic shaman brews
by indigenous Pawnee, now spread as a vision
of grassland restoration by a mix of local folks
and just as the kernels remind me of my Chicago
ancestors’ hard brains shrouded in white hoods,
I feel the strike of a scaly wing on my forehead
bugging me to never forget what I harvest.
Dave Luker is a poet and educator. At numerous universities, he has developed courses and retention programs to ensure the success of students who are First-Generation, low income, and students with disabilities. Previously he founded a hiking company, as well as taught poetry to high school students.
Photo by imso gabriel on Unsplash
