Along a weedy path I walked

on the Dakota prairie,

the sky overcast with yesterday’s rain.

Just enough sunlight to cast a shadow;

just enough sunshine to remember

the hot sand and surf of distant shores.

I ambled along, through a line of trees

planted there by prairie winds,

now pacing their slow march to glory.

At path’s end, a barn leaning

with the quiet grace of antiquity,

as old and as ageless as her country.

And there, five wooden crosses 

mark the sum total of spent lives,

nameless but to a walking traveler.

Just enough humanity to cast a shadow;

to know their Dakota and understand

why they came.