Morning Tour

It is night

In the unearthly light
Of a Red Desert rig
The wind scours the iron with snow
The Mud hand catches a sample
And the derrick groans
As the driller starts back in the hole

In the same winter dark
In the Park County jail
The jailer has just killed the light
As the glassy shrieks
Of a woman in the tank
Shred the nerves of the night

While the lawyer lies locked
With his lover
And the rodeo queen dreams
Her dream
A good man guards the killers
In their nightmare

And another rockets iron down the hole