The Road to Omaha
An Ode to America, the Beautiful...
she drives on the lonely highway
to a place far away;
scenes unfold before her,
nature’s bounty on display...
a solitary bird soars across
the sky like a sentinel,
an incredible vantage point
to watch the spectacle
the hills roll and undulate
as far as she could see
myriad shades of green
stretching far into infinity...
the verdant scenery broken
only by asphalt ribbons
and farmhouses on hillocks
next to red-hued barns...
maples, oaks, elms
and tall conifers dot the terrain;
they’re knights, rooks, pawns
in the checkered plain,
sheltering the chessboard
of green and greener fields
from severe prairie winds,
like formidable shields...
the early morning mist has lifted
and the air is dry;
and the blazing sun’s three quarters
up the cyan sky...
cumulus clouds zoom intermittently
hiding the sun;
shadows race in the fields
like creatures on the run...
the sun’s benevolent rays
caress the fields of grain;
after last night’s welcome showers,
life-giving rain
the crops will be greener still,
they’re heaven blest;
whispering a promise
of an early bounteous harvest...
this is the America!
she dreamed about very long ago;
the plentiful kingdom
from where all goodness flow...
not the decaying concrete jungle
of a Chicago ‘hood
nor the glitz, glamour
and fake smiles of Hollywood...
not the tall gleaming skyline
of midtown Manhattan;
nor South Beach
with scantily clad women in the sun...
here’s America’s heartland,
bread-basket and granary
God’s gracious, bountiful country,
sea to shining sea
09-05-2014
© Vic Evora
(2014)
Repost.... Inadvertently deleted by my fat fingers.
Based on a drive my wife (then girlfriend) and I did from Des Moines, Iowa to Omaha, Nebraska summer of last year. The poem is told in my wife's perspective.
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