Poetry Archives

Into the blue river hills
The red sun runners go
And the long sand changes
And to-day is a goner
And to-day is not worth haggling over.

   Here in Omaha
   The gloaming is bitter
   As in Chicago
   Or Kenosha.

The long sand changes.
To-day is a goner.
Time knocks in another brass nail.
Another yellow plunger shoots the dark.

   Constellations
   Wheeling over Omaha
   As in Chicago
   Or Kenosha.

The long sand is gone
      and all the talk is stars.
They circle in a dome over Nebraska.