For the Coneflowers
By Jenny McBride
For thousands of years
The Midwest sun woke to prairie.
For hundreds of years
These coneflowers have breathed here
Knowing searing summer’s heat
Knowing wolves and bison
Knowing a long, hard day
Where relentless winter sleep is night
And now they’re all that remain
Of all that remains
Of the flickering remnant of railroad prairie.
Mowed for the “safety” of bicyclists
The prairie is fading into thickening teasel,
Which the cyclists assume is a native plant.
This is getting dangerous.
We showed each of the garden members what the sound of plants is as synthesized by a midi sprout, in the hopes that they will connect with the internal life of the plants. Even though we see them stagnant, plants are alive, always moving, always singing, always running with water inside, and music is a great gentle reminder. This sound was created by Midi Sprout.