Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Driggs

West of Driggs, just out of Wyoming's reach
we passed the staggered
chewing fleet of harvesters

Stretched across the wheated hills
The metal locust crawl along
Stripping the stalks of
Golden sunshine, sewed in graceful
Topographic corduroy rows

Woody too, sang of golden hills,
he must have have watched this
show long before

Pyres of dust spiral skyward
Each lumbering machine moved
In synchronized choreography
hungry small train chugging
Along so heavy laden and ready

The Tetons watched, in wait for snow
As another harvest ended

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