Desolated and dangerous
It set up mysterious responses
   The brushed dirt under a rug
With sun glares sweeping up the details 
Of
Afternoons against the fence like very cold winters
Fire made a dome of yellow light
They are like works of evil children 
With the eastern landscapes,
Eastern grass,
With the look and smell of eastern America
Spring cry are the crooked tree limbs
The fear of fact for flatter of fire
The night loaded with omens

A snow
Animals saving their master
   Clean clouds with clear color grounds
The native land was a land of milk and honey
The night was like a friendly dog
It looked yellow
It looked ivory 
It looked like colors
With the starlight made of silver








 


The sun
The night was friendlier than the day
The beach was like my bed
The faithful sun glowed in the sky
The map of North Dakota
The map of the eastern lands
The map of the night 
The covered comfort of collected cedar
The beautiful starlight 
My travels had been cancelled by another
In the night the Bad Lands had become
The Good Lands