Catherine’s RAV4 rolls us past Branson
and suddenly off to our right we sight
a sculpted hill: smooth, curved snow and mansion
of gaunt trees embraced in glistening light
from fading sun. Another hill and we’re
encased in ghost of fog and dream (nightmare
if you’re driving). Cath taps a protector—
Texas Trailers eighteen-wheeler who clears
road through Harrison to Greenbrier’s heart.
We’re coming from Mizzou where my daughter
and Eric live in a mansion of art,
have carved out MFAs, thrive on laughter
and love and honoring the muse. I thrive
on such too: life, love, muse and poet’s drive.
Roger Armbrust
March 22,
2013
