For Liz and Willa

Oh! My sweet pioneer.
That road stretched out in front of you
gives me the most boring shivers,
induces a mediocre sense of dread.
I’ve driven it.
I’ve seen the way the sky and the land
smoosh together all homogenized.
Makes me uncomfortable the way people shudder
and cringe at a cluster of holes.

Only trypophobia is such an exciting word.
I can’t stand the flat land.
It scares me.
Pen me in to a holler and leave me be.
I crave dramatic demarcation,
green foothills and pink wisps of dogwood
rooted up against white cumulofluff,
atmosphere so clear and glowing blue
you could never make a dress to match it.
We are all alike, didn’t the author say?
But ain’t every sky the same.