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Late September by John Seng

In between eighteen-wheelers

on I-80

the road holds its breath

broken deer rest along the side;

further, beyond corn and soy

the remnant prairie quivers

harvest moon over silos

brimming with empty rations.

Away from the central line

I swim through veins of purple coneflowers

towards the path

my great grandfather used to walk in the morning

the prairie wins here

we are filled with seeds here.


John Seng's writing is informed by time spent working in hospitals, fields, and forests. His poetry explores the connections between the human body, the spirit, and the natural world. Our relationship to the land is brought to life in his work, as is the environment we are creating for future generations.


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