Union Pacific: A Pantoum
Strange to find ourselves
in plain beautiful country
where sunlight flows at
soft distances behind you.
In plain: beautiful country,
brief showers, and broken
soft distances. Behind you
meadowlarks sail and rise
brief, unbroken. Showers
far up the ranging blue
rise and sail. Meadowlarks
on mountain lilacs ahead,
a range in blue. Farther up
there is not a tree, nothing
on mountains’ heads. Lilacs
risen sweet in great steps.
Nothing is not there. A tree
our selves find too strange,
rising in great, sweet steps
to wherever sun’s light flows.