This feels fragmentary, but I’m not quite sure where it wants to go. I’ll publish it as is for now and tuck it away in the back of my mind, in hope that it will ripen into something more satisfying.
Today’s poem was prompted by the Three of Staves from the Prairie Tarot. (Click here to see the card.)
Not all sailors go to sea
He thinks of the wide, flat horizon, the full-
circle sight line, the endless ocean
of prairie and desert. He dreams of undulating
grassland, waves of heat and light and wind
that roll without cease, without tide between
vague shapes that might be clouds
or mountains. He longs for the sharp ozone
bite of a gathering storm and the clean, dry
scent of sun-baked dust.
Welcome, global readers and poets!
The Daily Compost 
Very intriguing!
Thank you! The image is very simple but evocative, seeming to capture a whole world of stories.
I know the feeling, Jennifer, when something just seems unfinished or fragmentary. I love your word “ripen.” It doesn’t seem incoherent at all to me, and I like the imagery, especially the “waves of heat or light or wind that roll without cease,” and also the last image, the “dry scent of sun-baked dust.” Fantastic!
Thank you! I’m glad it holds together as it is. I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s much more to be said. Maybe it will come to me in time.