|
|||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||
|
|
the vastness of the prairie
was too much for them they needed more than being mere tenders and doers and menders and vessels and vassals matrimony in the nineteenth century turns out to be some kind of unholy business unrecognizable in the mirror what happens when the children die the crops fail the husband doesn't bathe the days pile up with dust your wooden floor is made of dirt and the cattle fetch a higher estimation than your squandered dowry a strong woman on her own is plain and a vexation to the populace she sticks out un-marriagable as a stuck thumb even though she is more accomplished and more hard working than any man it is the look of a woman that makes one take notice it is the look of a woman that ties her to things that will drag her down to small and slim-to-none prospects on the way to the nutcracker suite of insanity what can a woman hope to be in the nineteenth century at best the respected wife of a parson bettering her reputation by helping out other lost souls does she have no soul no hopes of her own to look out for no dreams to tend even the female horse has no hopes for she is the sacrifice it is the heart of the stallion that keeps the Indian brave alive to fight another day it is the female horse the mare who can be sacrificed when the warriors are hungry and need to be fed. Legal Copyright January 30, 2016 All Rights Are Reserved By This Female Writer LEGAL COPYRIGHT TO THIS WORK AND THIS SITE TITLE BY THIS AUTHOR Meloo Straight from her Tilt-a-World/Melissa A Howells All poetry is the expressed legal property of this Author/Melissa A Howells Vote for this poem |
|