Sleeping from Mandan to Jamestown, waking near Spiritwood in the van, shrinking in fever with the van buffeted by wind so that it shudders, the wind maybe fifty knots straight N by NW out of Saskatchewan. Stopping for gas we see men at the picnic tables cleaning the geese they've shot: October first with the feathers carried off by the wind into fields where buffalo once roamed, also the Ogalala & Miniconjou Sioux roamed in search of buffalo and Crazy Horse on a horse that outlived him. She comes out of the station, smiling, leaning into the wind. She is so beautiful than an invisible hand reaches into your rib cage and twists your heart one notch counterclockwise. There is nowhere to go. I've been everywhere and there's nowhere to go. The talk is halting, slow until it becomes the end of another part of the future. I scratch gravel toward and from this wound, seeing within the shadow that this shadow casts how freedom must be there before there can be freedom. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FAIR SINGER by ANDREW MARVELL MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 12 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI IN LIGHTER VEIN by ELIZABETH KEMPER ADAMS L'EAU DORMANTE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SONG-TIME by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH FUTILITY by CHARLOTTE BLAISING |