SHALL I INTRODUCE YOU TO THE WIND?
Everything will change:
the word and the rock
the river and the tree.
Everything will be moved:
the corn and the dragonfly
the music and the grass.
What has been wasted
will return, a huge flight
will open the seed.
I will not wait
the cold seeps into the warm
the fire seethes across the taiga.
We wait for seasons
and they betray our want,
thighs clenched in terror
rape of the great Manitous
across the empty miles
where waters consume
the mountain and mountains
shed their blankets
like matchsticks
in the whipping
of the great rivers of air.
This is the great change
we may not be allowed to stay
erect in it
stones standing
heroes torn from our ribs.
Let me introduce you
to the wind
our grandchildren may not see
the heron, the heron
may not roost
where there once were trees.
This is not a drill
the sirens do not sleep in our dreams
we know what will go missing
the fault lines widen
in the country of our great thirst.