Sparrows tangled in horse hair
build their nest in the crotch
of choke cherry wood
I wander in the fields
looking for good stones
for medicine dreams
Watch the hawk soaring
against the river of air

In a few minutes the sun
drops behind the horizon
bloody sun spreading
in sandy coloured clouds
I walk back beside the garden
smell onions growing
in the black earth
listen to shiny winged
crows flying around
their roost in a frenzy

Every day a day of wind
but for weeks,
the spring rain holds off
Thunder heads pass by
rumbling in the distance
Every few seconds another
flash of lightning across
the front of the sky
Cock spinning wildly
on the barn roof

By morning only half
an inch of rain in the glass
the dry wind already
licking it up in a swirling
cloud of dust
Damn bird turning
this way and that way
making a dry thirsty noise
like a rusty gate