“abíní hoolzish
:       the low-moon horizon turquoise serenes pink-lit
        from the pulp and fray of whorled milkweed
        summer cypress turkey-feathered struts stark pebbled
        through the sheep corral and shade house
        beneath the horse trough star thistle and nine-awned grass
        reflect night storms and rainbow through the morning
        the sun’s rays darling through narrow shoots of cloud, vapor,
        or maybe morning fog

“hók’ą́ą́dóó
:       above a passing plane or marsh hawk or maybe a crow
        casts its wing on the sweet yellow clover and field weed
        on the rubble of rust tin can and car axle and wheel barrow
        a basketball backboard crafted from sheet metal and piping
        the ground crickets beneath moths telling a story as butterflies
        they flail and flare through two-needle piñon and ryegrass
        cottontails squirrel into the culvert under the main road
        now wash-like, parched, its flow sands really memory for water

“i’íí’ą́ k’ad
:       salsify and velvetweed overtop a broken fence
        its twine, slat, and barbed wire cloaked by dusked sod *[says “slats”]
        dirt road mud walls, tumbleweed, and maybe sunflowers
        bow-pulled arc by the metal windmill watering faint wind
        the mill echoes awake with each rock thrown
        at its face, back, or the bend of its opened arms
        bįįh níléíjí da’ayą́—clouds drop their shoulders into rain,
        into the coral evening, into the evening’s evening”