The Road to Omaha

An Ode to America, the Beautiful...
she drives on the lonely highway
      to a place far away;
scenes unfold before her,
      nature’s bounty on display...
a solitary bird soars across
      the sky like a sentinel,
an incredible vantage point
      to watch the spectacle
the hills roll and undulate
      as far as she could see
myriad shades of green
      stretching far into infinity...
the verdant scenery broken
      only by asphalt ribbons
and farmhouses on hillocks
      next to red-hued barns...
maples, oaks, elms
      and tall conifers dot the terrain;
they’re knights, rooks, pawns
      in the checkered plain,
sheltering the chessboard
      of green and greener fields
from severe prairie winds,
      like formidable shields...
the early morning mist has lifted
      and the air is dry;
and the blazing sun’s three quarters
      up the cyan sky...
cumulus clouds zoom intermittently
      hiding the sun;
shadows race in the fields
      like creatures on the run...
the sun’s benevolent rays
      caress the fields of grain;
after last night’s welcome showers,
      life-giving rain
the crops will be greener still,
      they’re heaven blest;
whispering a promise
      of an early bounteous harvest...
this is the America!
      she dreamed about very long ago;
the plentiful kingdom
      from where all goodness flow...
not the decaying concrete jungle
      of a Chicago ‘hood
nor the glitz, glamour
      and fake smiles of Hollywood...
not the tall gleaming skyline
      of midtown Manhattan;
nor South Beach
      with scantily clad women in the sun...
here’s America’s heartland,
      bread-basket and granary
God’s gracious, bountiful country,
      sea to shining sea
© Vic Evora


Repost.... Inadvertently deleted by my fat fingers.

Based on a drive my wife (then girlfriend) and I did from Des Moines, Iowa to Omaha, Nebraska summer of last year. The poem is told in my wife's perspective.

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