Big Blue rumbles up the well worn road,
Etching its path with wheels as big as those cows on the farm he dreams of,
as ponderous as the idea he lives on.
Two worlds birthed into one horizon of possibility
Unknown to each other, ancient and becoming. A path for blue from Persepolis to Amarillo, ruins ruined.
A path for the boy in blue jeans who sees a land of oz, miraculous, wondrous, gasping and growing.
This poem was inspired by two Persian-American young men. One lived in Texas. One lives in Michigan.
