Field Trip to Konza Prairie
Today’s lesson is grasshoppers.
Collect them with nets and put them in jars laced with dimethyl ketone.
The eight graders stumble out of the yellow bus.
They wear tank tops and short shorts.
Collect them and put them in “kill jars,”
the docent demonstrates the correct method.
The children in their tank tops and short shorts
never stood in the midst of the prairie before.
The docent demonstrates the correct method.
She sweeps a net in figure eights through tall grasses.
The children never stood in the midst of the prairie before.
They jitter and whine about itches and spiders.
The girls sweep nets at the edge of the grasses.
“I’m not going in there,” Tyesha grabs Lashonda.
They jump together and squeal about spiders and snakes.
The docent says follow and walks into bluestem.
“I’m not going in there,” but Tyesha comes along
Lashonda runs ahead, shouting “Kill, kill!”
The docent follows, bending the bluestem
to collect enough grasshoppers, put them in the jar.
The girls run through the bluestem, shouting and laughing.
They stop, look across open prairie.
There are enough grasshoppers in kill jars.
They smell the wind on the grasses.
They stop, look across open prairie.
Eighth graders far from the yellow bus,
they smell the wind on the grasses.
Today’s lesson is grasshoppers.
It seemed like some sort of destiny when Judith Edelstein moved to Manhattan, Kansas. She lived there from 1987 to 2006, longer than in any other place. After retiring from the public library in 2001, she volunteered as a docent with the Konza Prairie Environmental Education Program and set about studying poetry. She now lives in Corvallis, Oregon.
