Comments about Kay Whitaker
We Were Young In Oklahoma
We were young in Oklahoma,
Going out into the sun
Of the dry plains' early summer
And a world we hoped to stun. Interviews on wavy pavement,
Baking in the morning heat;
Getting home in soaking shirt sleeves,
Rubbing raw and tight pinched feet. Tired today but more tomorrow
As we left our papers here,
There. Unsmiling interviewers.
Under all, sick stomach fear. No more carefree, smiling autumns,
Drinking coffee, wasting time,
Greeting friends and casually wondering
What we'd do once in our prime. Years it's been since I remembered.