Why Wyoming?

by koeeoaddi

(a sestina in sub-particles for Jennifer, who asked)

I've been up
with the wind, trying to write down
an explanation for this charmed
move. In Cheyenne the light is strange;
no trees to shadow the beauty
of the prairie. The truth
is, Wyoming is hard to love. The truth

demands recognition of it's harshness. Up
on Jim Mountain, beauty
looks down
on the rest of us. We are strange
to this landscape, which has charmed
so few. We have been charmed

before. And always, the truth
is hidden by expectation. It's strange
how truth is exposed, up
here looking down
on this rough beauty.

In Issaquah, beauty
is simple - the forest charmed
by beads of rain, which come down
with the certainty of truth.
We look up
to Mount Rainier, that strange

volcano floating over Puget Sound. So strange,
like her sister Helen, who's beauty
went up
in cinders. She charmed
us for years, then demanded truth
with a terrible insistence that rained down

in rock. Rained and rained and rained down
to hold the attention of strange
transients like us, who betray truth
by looking only for beauty;
for that charmed
acre to never give up.

Up on Medicine Wheel, Wyoming is down right charmed.
Strange that her beauty is a hard uncomfortable truth.