George and I worked at oil rigging sites for several years while we lived fulltime in our motor home. One of the earliest sites was in Central Texas, deep in the wilderness of a large ranch. Our job was to check people entering and leaving the site. Early one morning, as the night shift was beginning to leave, one of the workers described to me something that they all swore they saw. In fact, he took a picture of the apparition. I wrote a poem about it and sketched, from memory, the photograph. I thought you might enjoy the story.

The Vision of the Plains, a Poem by Kathleen M. Brosius

The moon slips behind a cloud
The day has passed into night 

Shadows protect what stirs out there
Dust particles and mist take flight

Soft winds move ore the land just now
Through the depths of the fog, I stare

They say a vision may drift this way
White gown and long raven hair

She longs to find her one true love
Who once lived here with her

In death, they sleep beneath the sands
In silence, they felt a stir

The earth so still, so dark and deep
Holds remains of life long past

A force pulls forth a rich indigo surge
The vision's shadow is cast

She comes each night when the heavens are dark
I hear her lonely sighs

Raven Lady, be still and turn around
For tis here where your beloved lies

I added deeper meaning: The eighth verse refers to the oil that was being extracted from the site, which awoke the maiden, who now searches for her love in the dark of night.