Poetry- Driving to the Past

I drove ‘cross Kansas

Under a jaundice sky

Storms in the air

Racing against the wind


If this was then

What would it be like?

No shelter and no towns

Just tents beside the creek


West into the past we drive

Looking for those old dugouts

Forgotten cemeteries

Buried on the range


Its’ nearly a day from here

This dusty place

Imagine walking there

Beside a wagon or mule


Rain follows the plow they said

So someone’s clearly plowing

Out here tonight

Sheets of lightning falling from the sky


Freed Men free land they said

A land of hope and change

Together out here against the world

In a world that’s already changed


Pulled over in a small towns park

Watching the rain

Wondering if we should drive on

And thinking of the past

This entry was posted in American Historic Sites, Poetry, The Wandering Yankee and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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