We
lived in the right direction
The
cloud of ash went east
Eventually
circling the globe
We
were watching
From
the Southern side
Only
a dusting
Of
mineral rich volcanic dust
Instead
of getting choked out
The
dusting made our crops grow
Much
larger than the year before
I
would sit out in the front yard
Watch
the plume shooting up
Filling the sky above
Over
the belching wreckage
Of
Mount St. Helens
The
perfect vantage point
And
as cool as that was
It couldn't keep us in Oregon
Summer
found us on the move
I
got to ride alone with dad
In
the big yellow Ryder truck
Over
the rolling hills
Of
Interstate 84
We
skirted dangerously close
To
the wilds of Walla Walla
Before
diving Southward
To
cut through Idaho
On
our way to Utah
Dad
had a line on a job
A
teaching gig in Salt Lake
So
we hung around
Just
long enough
To
start fourth grade
Before
deciding to pick up again
High
tail it to greener pastures
Which
was more figurative
Than actual
As
we ended up in the desert
Surrounding
Phoenix Arizona
That
people foolish called a city
And
despite the oppressive heat
We
stuck around finally
Made
the wasteland our home
Started
slowly laying down roots
In
the impenetrable caliche’
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