BADLANDS
By Samantha Mozart
We fly over windswept buttes
Carved in antler patterns, visions of ghostly dancing winds;
Semiarid, broadly roamed by herds of trees
Rushing toward precipices of yellow, buckskin bluffs.
Flat, brown land. Puffy white clouds.
Like popover dough spooned onto a baking sheet
Regimentally, like charging cavalry, shadows
Casting spectral tepees across a high, wild plain.
Hot, dry weather to the north, the weather report said this morning;
Hot, muggy weather to the south.
Nations divided.
We fly over the side that won our flight.
For some reason the images no longer show here, but when you click on the question mark, it links to my books on Amazon.
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