reflections by susi: day 6 & 7

kansas

in the land where the pavement wets
before your eyes...
the brown and green and gold
sprawls out
in wide circumference,
unchanging,
though the mileposts
would tell you otherwise.
old, worn-out train tracks
parallel their modern counterpart--
the freeway--
reminiscing on the good old days...
their glory days--
when iron steeds were pioneers of wild frontier,
harbingers of post-modernity--
new, then,
breathing youth and ingenuity.
the land is rough
and young.
it calls out to the strong,
requires the weathering
and rugged resiliance
lying dormant in so many
of america's great dreamers,
'til they gather up their courage
and brave the lonely hills and prairie fields,
and prove themselves
to this great land.
she's not so fair,
or well-fed,
or reined in and tame
as her old sister,
lush, green europe.
but she's hearty.
shell survive the wear and tear
of driving rains,
tornadoes,
prairie wind,
and the relentless sun.
this land
is america.


ode to colorado, part deux

rusted rock oozing from towering slopes...
evergreens
springing up from earth
like spearheads scattered wide
across these colorado peaks--
lush, imposing rises
of green, dotted by rock and stream:
waterfalls surprising passersby,
just beyond the bend.
boulders imbedded
in western prairie grass
that climbs between the trees
up mountain sides
for miles.
mountain men
(unruly beards
and buckskin overcoats)
traipsing through these woods
and cliffs,
back
to log cabins
where the smoke drifts lazily
from grey stone chimneys,
come to mind...
who else
could rough and ride
this unforgiving,
rough and glorious land?
america calls all her own
again,
calls out through peaks
and canyons
to her own.
and we will answer.