far-off thunderstorms
abruptly convulse our roadway

unfamiliar birds
return to their roost

Table Rock Rainbow
some find holy


When the wind pauses upon
a pronghorn hour hand,

striped faces sniff
hesitant half-light

ash between sagebrush
always this

wary, waiting
slow turn, bolt

and feathery
white bouncing.

Chase, then,


Gillette a raw burn of strip mining
and oil wells. A saloon in a trailer.

Neon gambling. Welcome, at last,
America’s New West.

poem copyright by Jnana Hodson
(originally appeared in the journal Bathtub Gin)

 Green Repose 1


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