TRINITY
‘Neath faille skirt of zealous genuflect, gold stare by
pious eye,
valley city sweat goth despair that cloudless cursed July.
‘Round coo-still Capitol dome pigeon bird shallow panted.
While from burb to bowery home, fan whirred–summer recanted
with each ragweed sneeze each rale each weeze on fallow grist.
Stampeding stale through settler’s swath, wild herd yellow pissed
and, raucous lowing, stirred flaw across the once dew kissed lands;
as it hunted tall legend iced drinks and Kickapoo tans.
Bound for Sunday grace, fast banking a right off Route Sixty-Six;
Hope wound rural roads past weepin’ dry willows, past earless cry cricks,
faring upon a righteous field. Where, heads bowed, locks ragged shorn,
brown muslin cassocks torn, sandals frayed, their beads wholly holy worn;
a host of monks had fallen to their knees that cloudless cursed July.
In crusty pews we prayed for rain . . . Trinity: The Sky the Cornstalks and
I.
–Jean Staff
Local poets were writing about contemporary events in the Sangamo
Journal as early as the 1830s. People’s Poetry wants you to share your thoughts
on what’s happening in Springfield today–in poetic form. Poems on any subject
will be considered, but ones that deal with issues of local interest are encouraged.
Send yours to poetry editor Lee Gurga, P.O. Box 662, Lincoln, IL 62656, or to
gurga@ccaonline.com with “Bards of
the Sangamo” in the subject line. (Please limit your submissions to poems of
14 lines or less.)
This article appears in Jul 31 – Aug 6, 2003.
