Eight-line Poems

Prairie

Prairie

I do love a flat landscape,
the way the horizon forever recedes,
the land from all blemish undraped,
and the eye goes where’er the wind leads.

Here the eagle flies unfettered,
the air so sweet I have kissed it,
the Great Plains, they cannot be bettered.
A tower you say? Musta missed it.


Line count: 8
Rhymed abab
For Express It In Eight, 01.06.23
Prompt: Video of a man climbing a 1,500 ft tower in a flat landscape.