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Silver Maples

Text of Poem
Rain fingers stroke our grey bodies
and the long muscles of the prairie tenderly hold us.
The wind waves break over us as our bowed heads shelter
the homes of the earth's farmers, the herdsmen
of furrows, the crop growers, soil faithful,
the large-handed, lean-bellied seed sowers,
the keepers of life.
First Line
Rain fingers stroke our grey bodies
Original Pub Location
Original Publication Date
Original Citation
Wallace's Farmer, 22 April 1939, pp. 15.
Word Count
Poetic Form
Bibliographic Notes

Not included in Ward or in Complete. Republication in NAR was the first since 1939. North American Review 305.1 (Spring 2020): inside cover.