A poem by Duane H.H. Lyon Yesterday, I went to a tiny park in Pembina, North Dakota to rest a spell and drink a root beer soda.
From my purplish RV, I could see Emerson, Canada and Minneapolis, Minnesota.
On a silk white sheet I found a cool place in the shadows.
A woman soon came and talked my ears off from here to Massachusetts. Afterwards, under the leaves, I was eventually relieved to receive som…