Edited by Alexs Pate With co-editors Pamela R. Fletcher and J. Otis Powell‽
you didn’t have rural southern Minnesota
in mind when you
blew your classic mute
on your famous Birth of the Cool
sessions in New York, circa 1949.
But it’s the way the paper-thin
ice forms on the edge of the lake
in late October:
meeting at the cold dark water’s edge
---still open and free
though not for long---
with the ripples of these short choppy
muted notes of yours
blown just out of reach
this cool windy autumn morning.
land where I learned to crawl,
dust that held my footprints,
long fields I trod through.
where Papa spoke with skies,
where family voices gathered.
In my palm, this heap of earth
I have hauled over hills and valleys.
I ask the prairies to sustain me.
May my soil and this soil nurture each other,
may seeds root and develop beyond measure,
may the heartland and I blossom.