Upon this very spot, history whispers …
Standing upon this Oklahoman ground
listening to each story plot tell time.

A Cretaceous skeleton lies buried
deep underneath this earth …
where Homo erectus men died
delirious with convulsions and fever
from malaria-ridden mosquitoes
in prehistoric, tropical environment.

Then millenniums later
buffalo roamed vibrating
shaking the ground, quaking
from massive herds migrating
over wide-open plains …
Littered, with flint arrowheads
Indian braves crafted, as protection
from annihilation, of White men
invading ancient tribal lands.

Evidence of wagon train bravery, arrows
still embedded. Undiscovered in skulls
of a young pioneer couple, riding
wheel-rutted trails of misfortune
across Indian Territory
in the wild, Wild West.

Now, pungent odor lingers of the skunk
hit last night, by eighteen-wheeler truck.
Motivating reluctant, road-weary body
to climb back into, Jeep Explorer.
Driving far away, from interstate
roadside picnic/rest area,
leaving aluminum beer cans,
cigarette butts, and Big Mac meal turd
floating, in a public port-a-potty.

Now, our modern-time legacy.
On this very spot, where …
history is screaming!