Phebe Davidson
PRAIRIE WIFE
on a line by Mark Swanson
Breeze bent broom straw.
Wind became a second skin.
The afternoon turned raw as raw.
She swept out what wind blew in.
Wind became a second skin,
Later the sky went black with rain.
She swept out what wind blew in.
Day after day the same, the same.
After the sky went black with rain
she shuttered the windows fast and true
Day after day the same, the same.
She did as much as she had to do.
She shuttered the windows fast and true
and clutched her broom with all her might.
She did as much as she had to do.
And locked the door against the night.
Author’s Comment: For good or for ill, I’ve never really lost my early infatuation with rhyme and rhythm.
Bio: Phebe Davidson is the author of several published collections, most recently Waking to Light (Main Street Rag Publishing Co, 2012). She is a staff writer for The Asheville Poetry Review & contributing editor for Tar River Poetry.
Wild Goose Poetry Review 
I very much admire and enjoyed reading this poem. Obliged.
Really lovely — a pantoum?
Phebe, I do enjoy your work! I ‘feel’ it.
I appreciate the sound in this poem. It sings. I want to save it and read it over and over.