My brother
is like a green tree I know
upon an open
Oklahoma hill

nothing near but
prairie grass and wind
a cerulean cloche
stretching overhead

no cottonwood, this
no straggling, bent redbud
or fruitless pear

but straight and sturdy
umbrella of shade
promise of shelter
from the remorseless sun

and when I traverse
that unrelenting sameness
from Bartlesville to Tulsa

I watch for it
every time

by its stalwart grace
and singular beauty

I am grateful for it
it reminds me of him
an oasis in my life
where I never fail
to find peace
and rest.