Speculations
In this open field
we uncover the massive
bones of a moose
a shoulder blade like a
giant tropical fish
sullen and sucked of
color and light,
tendons and ligaments
still motion sinews
a graveyard, a harvest,
the bison and their curls
so coarse and alive, the
river otter and his sunset
show plus the trumpeter swans
are back, all grace and game on
showstoppers indeed, though
I prefer the heron and the
sandhill, their subtle and sultry ways
or the robin, rising from his round belly
guileless, feckless,
and we just want to eat and romp and
slow dance sweetly amongst
the heavy branches, the lilacs
so sagacious, the tiny rabbit two-step
listen to the grouse
and her wild rhythms
listen to the coyote
his tracks so smooth
like sweet wind
like the mama sow
and her cubs that
course down the trail
their weight and warm,
golden fur, thick honey
and taffeta sheen while the
bald eagle, I swear, grazes my
head, tells me
I better look up, check the divine,
everyone seems to be calling at once.
