SOLAR ECLIPSE IN THE LAND OF SANDSTONE HOODOOS
Between hoodoos and the ghosts of whooping cranes,
day dies too soon. Secure in hogans, Dineh sing
against the sorrow of light’s vanishing.
The white wolf flops under a rabbit bush, moans
at the kingbird flying low to catch gnats and blow flies.
Long shadows take us in their hollow mouths.
We listen to sky’s intelligence, wait for the shift