This is the color of Kansas in winter.
Muted brown.
Sprawled atop laced grays --
Patches of dull green.
The air slides above
The lumpy squares,
Tracing the movement of the glaciers
That tore away at the land.
They carried off the rock, the points and ridges,
To crush us.
Newspapers don't report
The wilting plots and leathery trees.
Only mad dashes
Made by those inside taped cardboard boxes,
Hiding from the winter colors,
The glacier
Spreads its way
Across the street.