The Prairie

At night

I try and understand

the two coyote voices

back and forth

back and forth

through the boorish grass.

Sometime in the middle of it all

I must have fallen asleep

because I can feel the silken edges of her shirt sleeves

hang into the shared space above my chest

as she draws back the curtains slowly

letting the light soften the things that need allay.

She pulls me towards her grassy smell;

billowy waves of breath promising the delay of rain and feverish skies

for first the lift of dew on her Bluestem body

and yes

some time for me to embrace

her womanliness.

May 20