for Alice Heyer Ramsey, first woman to drive from NY to SF, starting June 5, 1909

were the sudden stars a novelty after
your suitable city discarded like an apron

did turgid rivers tattered with foam
mirror mismathced doilies left behind
did stormclouds rise as
lumpen sheets to smother

absent pavement & signposts
vague landmarks to bypass

the lure of away called out      unscripted & free as
green-bladed oceans rippled unmown

under a bowl of downturned blue
sun-throated Sirens with feathered arms

lured you sideways to crush handfuls
of prairie    pink roses like those

once by your door but oh these   so sweet
& what of that faraway torte

made of buttes   layered hot reds   cool chocolates
that drip in the shimmer    mirage or reward

follow your polestar
unfurl the vague heat & confirm

watch the sizzle & hiss of sunmelt
in a sea at the edge      of your world

while at your back
an ordinary day