washington with arched flat peat colored driving bridges
paralleling angled steel rusted railroad bridges
clawing land to land over water,
and harrowed, gnarled mountain tops
busting up the landscape,
a thick, prickly backdrop to the
lumbering graffitied freight train passing.

"Indian smoked salmon ahead"

a boulder in the lane, and ten yards later a sign saying
"rocks"

small slices, road signs, light at angles, i want
to remember this: this state highway, these towns,
the people who make them,
who witness the seasons,
and validate my existence.