Oklahoma
I want to find you
on a ranch
in the middle of Oklahoma
The tan of your Stetson
the memory of a little girl
looking up into a face
she will forget
I want to find you
with tobacco
on the dashboard
Spice and wood brought
to life by the sun
The smell of summer
of home
I want to find you
in the quiet
when I am finally alone
Hear your voice
through the speaker
of the worn telephone
once more
I want to find you
beside me
with a joke on your tongue
Crow’s feet dancing
at the corners of your eyes
slanted to catch the upturn
of my mouth
I want to find you
in the end
when we return to dust
Great cities buried
by the hands of a clock
just as you were
in the middle of Oklahoma
