Oregon's High Plain
How
few
places
on this earth
has no woman trod?
I stare across high plains to what
seem like alligator hills, each rise between coulees
looking like another knuckle, or a clutching toe upon a heavy reptile foot,
every vale as a divide between each creeping claw
whose tracks lie in the prairie dust
tracing ancient rock.
No man here
for miles
and
miles.
