Silver Contrails by David Calhoun

In the sky

A sign of freedom

Spread so high.

Riding Again 

I lie down

But sleep will not come

My heart is heavy,

Beating slowly like a war drum.

My brothers,

where are you now?

Vanished like buffalo,

In front of the white magic crow?

Where are the lodges,

The mead rack piled high,

Is everything gone,

Like smoke in the sky?

---

“I feel like these poems maybe are written in a style not seen much today.  I love nature much like Robert Frost and try to capture that same love of nature.  But maybe this doesn't work anymore.  I don't give a lot of my poems a chance because of this.”

David Calhoun is retired and living in Hokes Bluff, AL.  He has poems forthcoming in Joyfully Wondrous.