A Quilt in North Nebraska Copyright 12-2009 Al "Doc" Mehl There’s a quilt in north Nebraska, That’s been sewn into the land; Rolling grass fields are the fabric, And the batting’s made of sand. It’s been trimmed at the horizon Where it’s pinned against the sky; Ev’ry stock tank is a button, Ev’ry windmill is a tie. And the runs of old barb’d wire, They are the braided threads with which Nimble fingers sew a pattern; Ev’ry fence post is a stitch. Each square tells a family’s story, Sewn inside a bound’ry fence; That quilt chronicles a his’try ’Bout the trials of sustenance. Formed of fabric from those lives, That quilt will shield us from the storm; Daytime’s tapestry breathes beauty, Come the night, ’twill keep us warm. Pieced a broad mosaic patchwork, ’Tis a blend of life and line; I should think that some great spirit Had a hand in the design. Most folks picture the Almighty In the image of a man. But if judgin’ by that quilt, I’d say God has a woman’s hands.