Country Doctor

    By Kevin Heaton

The quest for Quivira parts fabled

rivers where bluestem and switchgrass

yawn early from wet winters, without

much guidance from the sun.

I salve aloe into deep cuts, and suture

fevers onto windy dreams easting

across the Great North Bend.

Range fires gloat, then hush.

The moon suits up in butterfly weed

orange, then turns ashen above the knoll

where Coronado’s horse sparked flint

rock, and flamed the hills.

In time, dust settles onto sand plum

roots, and we cellar the little red fruits

in mason jars. The prairie gathers baskets

full of loaves and fishes for wolf

and coyote children.

I pause to place coins on weary eyes

no longer witnessing horizons, and criss-

cross two arms at rest beneath one stone.

© 2011  Kevin Heaton

Kevin Heaton writes in South Carolina.  His fourth chapbook, Chronicles, is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press in 2012.  His work has published in more than 100 journals and anthologies.  He is listed as a notable poet at KansasPoets.com.  More of his work can be viewed at his website.