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Riding Down The Highway

By John I. Blair

I dreamed that I was in
Our Ford coupé,
Riding down the highway
Into Oklahoma,

Crossing the Chikaskia,
The Ninnescah, the Cimarron –
A long list of exotic names
Promising adventure.

My brother was beside me,
Mom and Dad in front,
Strong breeze through the windows
Blowing in my hair.

We were going to Camargo,
To my aunts, my uncles,
Cousins waiting there
To share an Easter meal.

The Ford was blue;
The sky was blue;
My eyes were blue;
My life was new.

Just the view that day
Of red Oklahoma soil,
So different from the Kansas tan,
Exalted me with newness.

Before the day was done
I’d be on the Canadian,
Rife with floods and quicksands,
Wild river of the west.

I knew the cowboy movies
I watched on weekends
Were make-believe,
But this was real.

©2016 John I. Blair

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