There's a rocky stream, called the Arkansas,
From mountain peaks, where Colorado snows have thawed.
I followed her down through Kansas, stopped at an old cafe.
I asked for a cup of coffee, and a piece of pie to stay.
The choice was peach or apple, they also had rhubarb and bean.
I never heard of bean pie, but this was country I'd never seen.
I drove pn down continent, to a slow brown river bed,
Shaded by cottonwoods, it bore cottonmouths instead.
It was the Arkansas River, near its living end,
I floated its slow brown waters, to look around the bend.
