Western Oklahoma Countryside

Late summer evenings
and the sun so slowly passes,
stretching for one glimmer on the rocks,
one last glowing
on the grasses




Hurry now, for the clouds are crowding
and this green will all go black;
Even the rocks are changing--
yellow gold to dark and cold.
and it'll be hours before they're back!









Oh, let's run down this little road;
for I know the house
that sits just over that hill.
I've never seen a cloud
that made it past the door,
and lavish light's on every window sill