Russett's Poetry
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It was a stark bleak windy autumn.  The terrain had vastly changed to rolling hills on U.S. 40 from Oakley to Weskan.  The  history of yesteryear filters my mind with spirits of the Cheyennes, and ghost of the Whites. As they had skirmishes and fought when the white began to infiltrate the Cheyenne buffalo grounds.  My imagination heightens as I pass a buffalo wallow still in the area.  I slowed my car as I drove threw the ruins of the first towns that had developed here.  Not much left of Wallace and Fort Wallace.  I pulled over and stopped when I came upon the haunting old Fort Cemetery.  Was this the pure definition of "West," or just faded dreams.  I started the car pulled back to the road. Coming to another development of the past, Page City.  Suddenly my first view of civilization in miles, Sharon Springs.  Near here is Russell Springs, the site of the last county seat battle in the history of Kansas.  I didn't regret taking this route on that last warm day before Winter set in. Then I passed a wind - torn billboard criticizing abortion, in the middle of these hills.  I thought how out of place it was.  Politics in the middle of a stark, bleak, windy autumn.  I was awe struck by it all.  Minus the bill board.

Aug 8th 2008
Russett Stubbs

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