[JustAmy]

Washita River

When the Oklahoma sun glares hot overhead
The Washita River, through its gulch of red,
Trickles slowly along on its tortuous way
Through Clinton, Anadarko and Chickasha,
From the Cheyenne Hills and the Texas plains,
Where the hot winds blow and it seldom rains
Throught the C. And A. county and the Kiowa
Clean down to Red River and the Chickasaw
Through windswept prairies and lonely sandhills,
To the tree-bordered valleys where coolness distills.

When the spring rains come and the winter snows thaw,
It's a different story - the Washita.
Then the swollen river roars down with a flood
Turning fertile farm lands into swirling mud,
And riding the waves of its mighty crest,
Like cattle stampeding or stallions abreast,
Come branches and trunks of uprooted trees
Where an hour before one crossed it with ease.
It goes rip-roaring on its ravaging way,
And man counts his losses with gloom and dismay.

By Laressa Cox McBurney
Published in Always The Prairie in 1949

[JustAmy]

I am having sporatic computer troubles today; I'll get back here whenever I am can.

Thanks

[Alamo-Girl]

Thank you so much for the poem! Beautiful!

[SpookBrat]

Love that poem. You've been finding lots of good ones about the prairie lately. This prairie girl at heart loves them all. I'm trying to keep them for my scrapbooking.

I have been meaning to ask you because I haven't had time to keep up with FR this week....have the fires reached your area? I've been watching the news and praying. I hope everyone I know from that area is ok.