In this open field

we uncover the massive

bones of a moose

a shoulder blade like a

giant tropical moonfish

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 better, 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 aspens

so sagacious, the tiny rabbit two-step

listen to the grouse,

her wild beats,

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 –

look up, check the divine.

Everyone’s calling at once.

***