11.23.2014

Driving North to La Salle

The highways belly and dip, 
threading each other
out of buildings and businesses.
The car falls and rises
pushing up snow-peaked mountains

with the acceleration, each mile spit
behind the rear wheels. 
All objects fall to the earth,
become grounded,
and the land reaches out-

A lone smoke stack
with a guard of chrome cylinders
shoulder to shoulder.

Outside the city brittle, papery, ghosts of corn stalks become

silhouetted by the sun on Long's peak-
At the foot of each plant,
drifts of gathering snow.

Wind turbines ready for the gusting plains,
stack like dominos in front of big players.
In an old lot there stands a double-wide

lording over piles of used tires.

Young golden eagles
are stalking mice and prairie dogs
and a magpie is dodging eighteen wheeler's.

Ribbons of cattle gate and fence surround muddy feed lots
outside the husk of a Western fort, 
previously the property of the U.S. cavalry.

Cargill grain silos rise hundreds of feet

blotting out the sun on the storage tracks
where the old heads sit in locomotives,
chewing tobacco stretched out in overalls,

waiting to get on the main line.









3 comments:

  1. ...not exactly how I wanted the format to publish, but the words and pictures are there

    ReplyDelete
  2. This made me wish I was out there with you. It also took me back to Gorman and the days of bottomless coffee pots :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Friggin' beauuuuuutiful. Words and pictures alike.

    ReplyDelete

:)