Drought

rustles the yellow grass, 

one ear open, cocked

at the middle. Trees, or once-trees,

in nausea green contort, shrink,

lacking mni. What was Turtle Island like before? I know 

Knowing through death and grief; yes, my grief is practiced now: 

creeks wrought and wrung

choked, fish gone.

Land de-boned, and bones. Sky yoked.;

Roads.