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Poetry and Prose - A Forum For Poets and Their Poetry and Prose -> Miscellaneous Poetry -> The Empty Country
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rmarcom


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The Empty Country
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The Empty Country


by Robert Marcom


Dreary scraps of torn and tattered rain clouds flee the desolate
prairie where rabbits starve for the lack of a bit of green to eat...
and coyotes languish for want of rabbit flesh. The empty place;
suitable for vultures and that breed of human that fences in empty
spaces and strings high tension power lines.


No Indians lingered here and Conquistadores came, conquered, passed
through and were gone. Only empty land remained -- and rabbits,
coyotes and vultures -- when the rains finally came.






Previously published in E2K: a journal for the new literary paradigm


Robert Marcom, Author and Essayist. He can be found online at http://robertmarcom.com/ and is the author of: Digging Up Texas: A Guide to the Archaeology of the State, published by Republic Of Texas Press, Plano Texas (ISBN 1-5562-973-2) and Darkly, Darkly, a chap book of poetry and short fiction, published by Twilight Times Press.

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Ray Succre


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Robert,


this poem is engaging and thoughtful.  Also, it reminds me of something:  When I was much younger, in the foothills of Golden, Colorado, I had an awful experience with wild rabbits.  We lived on dairy property, so the prairie dogs and rabbits were everywhere.  My father decided to catch a rabbit for dinner.  We went out into the hills looking.  I was supposed to shoot the rabbit with a .22.  Dad brought a shotgun he'd just gotten for Father's Day, and was just going to do a little target shooting after we caught the rabbit.  He had hollow-point slugs.  We saw a rabbit go jaunting through some brush.  It was a fat, giant, loping thing with very meaty ears.  Unfortunately, my dad got excited with its sudden appearance and shot it with the shotgun, which was horrible, if you can imagine.  I had to shoot it in the head while it shook and I've never been able to be around rabbits since without feeling guilty and nervous.  But, I'm still somehow fond of the memory.


Anyway- your poem takes me back on a personal level, which is rare for me, not to mention it's very well written.  Thanks for the read. 


-Ray



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rmarcom


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Thanks, Ray.  I've always had trouble shooting a living thing, even though I grew up in Colorado and hunting was firmly embedded in my childhood experiences.


I wrote this poem while riding across the desert wilderness on my way to Laredo, Texas.


Robert



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Weeza


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Hello Robert,


I'm very new at this but I just wanted to let you know that, reading your poem, I could see everything in my mind. Beautiful work.



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