Oklahoma - Poem by Marilyn Lott
It was September when we drove along
A brilliant red dirt road
I remembered all the stories
That John McCornack told.
I’d been anxious to see the places
John nestles in his pages.
Old fences, barns and homesteads
Some collapsing now, in stages.
I felt close to you, John, my friend
As the sun on the red dirt gleamed
When I finally reached God’s country
It was everything I’d dreamed.
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