pyre, eyrie

From here, barred owls ladder winter sun’s

resounding arroyos’

“earths of different colours, as blue, a kind of crimson,

grass-green, shining black, chalkwhite, and ochre”

against

Montagnes de Pierres Brillantes,

now Rockies.

Or there, a stand of scarlet sumac (with bobolink

sphericling the hereabouts

lit with a fine straw-colored light like the spirits of trees

—some Appalachia for backdrop)

drinks in all green wide summer

to a berry.

Off the porch I see twelve miles into the sunflower patch.

High noon stands still as a just-picked apple.

prairie, prairie

These are The Foundations.