—
Once we cross over to Pennsylvania
The land returns to my father;
Hills blasted apart then coated with
Soft green allegheny down.
Shadow makers crawling across
The blue sky in pipe drawn
Huffs. Thin bridges dangle
Semi trailers above a river trace.
A now-you-see-now-you-don’t
Hex flashes a mysterious smile
From the red barn passing.
Pheasant mutters wilkommen under her breath.
Then good pine friends like all of us
(Older than we ever expected and barer)
Lean against each other as
They pass a day again
Inside this great, dark forest
Beside the interstate.
— from the road