They left early that morning
With the turning wheels 
Of  their wagon counting out the
Miles covered 
In green 
And sprinkled with wild flowers 
Of spring.
Late in the day
His wife saw clouds on
The far horizon 
Which later turned out to be
Snow covered peaks
Of not too distant mountains.
And then they knew 
That  they had come upon their land
At last.
Some would say, 
“Only prairie land.”
But, he saw  fields of grain and she
Saw a table
With red roses in a chocolate vase. 


© 2006 Shel Bockman 

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