there is no such thing here
as dry land
we left it behind with the
sky that stretched forever
with the sage
east over cornfields to bluegrass
so green it looked like paint
to forest of second growth lots
and half burned mountains
that is to you still primeval
the land here groans
with rivers rising
with green and green
and rich red mud
there is no dry land here
yet still
shimmering somehow
on an imagined horizon
like a promise of water
like rest

Kara Coryell