The sunsetting sky of a prairie winter: biggest canvas in the world.
The west horizon beyond the distant darkened fields
A glowing rusty blaze like a long low cowboy's campfire.
The east horizon deepest blue beyond the swirling waves of
Soft grays, the only contrast in the white shined-on snow.
All around, a constant horizon, dependable and straight.
Silhouette trunks and branches, hedges of trees grown tall and black,
Planted by some caring farmer long ago who loved his land.
I could stay all night and gaze but it is drive-through art.
The highway slides the foreground, all around me pulls my eyes.
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