Kansas poem.

Golden wheat in summer,
and tall stalks of corn.
Lightning loud with humidity
and thick, thick rain.
Home of tornadoes, Wizard of Oz,
ruby red slippers, and Jayhawks.

Sunflowers make us smile,
rain washes us clean,
and roads stretch to our forevers.

We are in the middle
of nowhere
and the middle
of everywhere.

We are the state
with a bite taken out.

(every so often, I am that bite
chewed up and spit back onto bread.)

We mostly find happiness
in the simplest of things
and still we search
until we forget
just what we are searching for.

That itch to find the excitement
the world holds outside of here
crawls up and down on my skin,
sometimes worse than others,
but I can’t get out
without getting sick.

This just happens to be home.
This is where I am.

Maybe Kansas can have its own excitement.
Maybe I’ll just make it.

Tags: ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: