Interstate 40 West
Drivin' Interstate 40 West
Under the low-down, deep-darkened belly of a storm cloud,
And a sun
Bright as memories of sixteen
Turns the rain to crystals,
While the music makes the bad memories bearable
And the great ones grand,
This is the place where terripans crawl and cross many roads
Under skies never-told,
Where thoughts bake and broil in a noon-time sun
And trucks spin dust like their cowboys spin tops to bottles,
The sky is as blue as winter but as warm as the Pacific waves,
And down old Road 48
Just past the Okfuskee water tower
There's a field full of old-run Volkswagen bugs
That line the fence like tired cattle,
In Wewoka,
A small-town, sun-blond boy
With a tan as rusted as the bed of the Deep Fork River
rolls an old tire to the curb, smiles
And waves
Nicole Marie
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