morning poem, may 2, 2016


I remember thinking of the west
As a young man
I’d see clouds on the close horizon
And imagine
The great, clear skies of New Mexico
How I got free I still don’t know
But we pointed the car westward and drove on
In only a day the country had changed
And the world before us was open
And the breeze blew freely
And the soil in Kansas was black
As wet coffee grounds
Then came the Rocky Mountains
Almost indistiguishable from the clouds
And we sat quietly behind the wheel
And drove on.

copyright 2016

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