I feel sorry for her empty arms,
But at least I know
That she will soon be pregnant.
The tide has gone out,
Leaving this little shell fragment
Inlaid in the sand.
It looks like
God has been
Cutting his fingernails again!
Surely there is an old legend
That tells how White Buffalo Woman
Got up in the sky.
The pine tree is growing out her bangs.
Now they are long enough
To need a clip.
A broken shell in the middle of the grass
Means that the mother bird has cleaned her nest.
Is there ever an albino raven?
It would take a really big medicine woman
And more love than I have
To mend this broken hoop.
Yet when she dances with a planet,
Somehow I feel excited again
About finding the path of beauty.