This Land

White sun hangs just above the falls.
You look upstream at cascading water
immersed in sound, frozen by its frosty
foam spilling over timeless rock –
silver leafless Sycamores, rusty Oaks
yellow grass and green Cedar.

You turn toward the trail that takes
the…

On Interstate 35 north
of Guthrie, driving through
evening shadows I pass
a rusting, stale green Chevy
bouncing along on bald tires
with a great antlered deer
tied across the tattered roof.

I see a good Oklahoma boy
driving grateful, his eyes locked