Snow falls unimpeded landing
Softly in open fields.
Devoid of trees, fences, buildings
Except for scattered rock outcroppings.
Snow thinly covers a single bison
Its skeleton quiet beneath an oak tree.
An abandoned dirt road borders the eastern edge
The other borders are miles from here.
On clear and silent evenings you
Can hear the oil pumps working tirelessly
Bringing black gold to the surface
And new hope to long forgotten towns.
Few things have changed here
Yet it has become an enigma
A territory collapsing on itself
Further isolated yet surrounded.