I carry a glass bottle of water from home
When I go out. My well water is better than bottled,
Better than anything of purchase. After leaving
The Great Salt Plains, apocalyptic desert
Of salt and crystal, my bottle was empty.
Two miles down the road, we stopped
At a windmill pumping water into a trough,
And you easily climbed over the electric fence
To get me a refill. Kansas farm boy, you are here
In my life to stay. We will never thirst.
NOTE: IF you have never been to the Great Salt Plains State Park in northwestern Oklahoma, you must do so. It is a weirdly beautiful ugly place. And you can dig for crystals!
1 thought on “Windmill Water”
A practical gesture becomes poetry through your eyes. Unstoppable poet, thank you.