Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

For Earth Day

Last night, standing on solid ground,
I looked at the stars in space
infinite as desert sand, the half-moon
trying to mend, and the fracas under
our skins endless as the ocean. Then,
I thumped on sharp rock, stepped on
the shadows of trees, and heard the
anemic voice of the tilting earth, asking
that we keep our side of the bargain
instead of one hot motto after another
with our pitchfork still stuck in the prairie grass.