Drake, the clot, missed it by a mile.
That hook of rock failed to snag
his sails into the only gap for a
thousand miles and the Ohlone breathed
easy in their skins unaware of the
Great Inevitable whilst the dew
on the antelope’s nose lay undisturbed.
Salmon knew the river
would not deepen. The eagle’s shadow
rippled like a whisper over desert
ridges. Grassland rolled a parody
of Atlantic waves. Crow and Lakota
were still safe behind the Appalachians
which dipped to the farms of the Puritans
and the graves of the Seminole.
One curious soul raised his head,
wondered what lay beyond the forest
and the valleys. To the west.
