[Speak of prairie smoke blooming,]

Speak of prairie smoke blooming,
                and asters, hyssop, vervain,
                the whole prairie aswirl in points of light
                as if the night sky
                had turned inside out

of the night sky pulling up its skirts

of an owl with a mouse in its heart,
                a coyote with an owl in its heart,
                a sharp-shinned hawk red as sunset

of leadplant heaving into purple,
                aster spindled as dawn,
                blazing star holding their fans aloft

of switchgrass, sideoats grama,
                indiangrass, how they move
                with such piety

of the moon and below it fox,
                hunger following each

of the path to the water

of potholes where mergansers,
                coots, pintails, dip
                as if they are in holy water

--Athena Kildegaard