Sphinx

In the Flint Hills of Kansas
The Sphinx resides,
Unrecognized by the I-70 passersby,
Who also fail to realize
The zen quality of this nature retreat
On their way to Breckenridge or Vail,
The giant legs on which it rests
Advance and retreat
For the driver who faces sideways,
Awed by the newly discovered energy
Imparted to the brown swells
That engulf the Giant’s head
Shimmering in the Kansas wind,
Smiling at the windmills that chop
The prairie air into sections,
Layering them one on top of the other
To create the anthropomorphic head,
The cat-like body,
The earth-clawing paws,
Calling to the Great Pyramids
To join in the fray,
Laughing at the mindless travelers
Who tell others to “Travel I-70
Through Kansas at night,
You won’t miss anything,”
At this the Sphinx laughs and says,
“Too frail to wail, set sail.”