Archives for posts with tag: South Dakota

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GIRL RIDING A HORSE IN A FIELD OF SUNFLOWERS
by David Allan Evans

Sitting perfectly upright,
contented and pensive,
she holds in one hand,
loosely, the reins of summer:

the green of trees and bushes;
the blue of lake water;
the red of her jacket
and open collar; the brown
of her pinned-up hair,
and her horse, deep
in the yellow of sunflowers.

When she stops to rest,
summer rests.
When she decides to leave,
there goes summer
over the hill.
***
“Girl Riding Horse in Field of Sunflowers” appears in David Allan Evans’s collection This Water. These Rocks (San Francisco Bay Press, 2009), available at Amazon.com.

Painting: “Sunflower Heaven” by Patty Stern, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Prints available at fineartamerica.com.

david-allen-evans

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: David Allan Evans is the author of numerous collections of poetry, including This Water. These Rocks (2009), The Bull Rider’s Advice: New and Selected Poems (2004), and the chapbook After the Swan Dive (2008). Evans has also published prose, including a memoir with his wife, Jan Evans, Double Happiness: Two Lives in China (1995). Evans is known as a sports poet, admitting in an interview his belief that “All poets are word athletes.” The poet laureate of South Dakota since 2002, Evans has held fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Bush Artist Program, and the South Dakota Arts Council. Evans is a two-time Fulbright Scholar in China, and his work has been translated into Chinese by Zhang Ziqing. In 2009, Evans was awarded the South Dakota Governor’s Award for Distinction in Creative Achievement.

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MOTEL CHRONICLES (Excerpt)

by Sam Shepard

…We stopped on the prairie at a place with huge white plaster dinosaurs standing around in a circle. There was no town. Just these dinosaurs with lights shining up at them from the ground.

My mother carried my around in a brown Army blanket humming a slow tune. I think it was “Peg a’ My Heart.” She hummed it very softly to herself. Like her thoughts were far away.

We weaved slowly in and out through the dinosaurs. Through their legs. Under their bellies. Circling the Brontosaurus. Staring up at the teeth of Tyrannosaurus Rex. They all had these little blue lights for eyes.

There were no people around. Just us and the dinosaurs.

PHOTO: Dinosaur Park, Rapid City, South Dakota, 1945 (April K. Hanson, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED)

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MOTEL CHRONICLES (Excerpt)

Story by Sam Shepard

…We stopped on the prairie at a place with huge white plaster dinosaurs standing around in a circle. There was no town. Just these dinosaurs with lights shining up at them from the ground.

My mother carried my around in a brown Army blanket humming a slow tune. I think it was “Peg a’ My Heart.” She hummed it very softly to herself. Like her thoughts were far away.

We weaved slowly in and out through the dinosaurs. Through their legs. Under their bellies. Circling the Brontosaurus. Staring up at the teeth of Tyrannosaurus Rex. They all had these little blue lights for eyes.

There were no people around. Just us and the dinosaurs.

PHOTO: Dinosaur Park, Rapid City, South Dakota, 1945 (April K. Hanson, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED)