Snow
blows over the concrete tundra
like
low lying ghosts from an ancient era.
The
sprawl of steel and rigs on the road
surely
wasn't what they dreamed long ago.
It's a crude life for many, a cold one for the rest.
Dad's
gone for a while. Mom's trying her best.
Men
here have been wearing flannel and tight jeans
long
before this hipster scene.
'Help
Wanted' signs in every window.
People
get high. The taxes are low.
Forget
the formalities just hop in and drive
those
jacked up trucks; a source of pride.
Pump
jacks nod their heads in pleasure,
they
keep working despite the weather.
It
snows in the fall, and in the spring there's still snow.
It
might snow in the summer for all I know.
It's something only a Canadian can truly understand;
day to day living in this frozen flat land.
