On Indian Land

July 10, 2009 by Richard  
Filed under Poetry

Harvest moon

Harvest moon

Standing on the prairie

south of Saskatoon

there I was on Indian land

howling at the moon

As I watched the moon come up

I heard a coyote’s song

I didn’t have to stop and think

I just sang along

Not a house for miles

I just opened up and bayed

And as my spirits let it flow

The less my body weighed

The evening breeze, the smell of sage

and a sky still darkly blue

the rustling of the prairie grass

a few mosquitoes too

“There – I’m glad that’s off my chest”

I loudly did exclaim

“It’s much too dark to find my ball

it’s time we end this game!”

We went back to the clubhouse

Through the advancing gloom

A great adventure, and the best damn part

…was howling at the moon