Three AM

I fix up the pillows, 

I close my eyes,

I've taken care of 

Everything that

Came along today, needing

Taking care of. 

So I keep my eyes closed

And I figure, when they've 

Adjusted, I'll see something

Out there in my own

Vast beyond, sometimes 

Red barn rooftops, sometimes 

Shapes of the garden in 

My night vision, the odd 

Light of it pulling my watching out

To the old barn. 

When I opened my

Eyes, the blackest night was 

There waiting. Tonight the fog

Lifted.

Hiraeth

Cranes 
Are my spirit animal. 

Memories, people,

These creatures of my past and place, 

My great plains, 

Tangle altogether in 

Some living entity right on 

The other side of my reality,

In beautiful shade 

There all the time,

The web of my relations and that

Past durable, known and unknown, 

Perhaps forgotten,

But as clear as 

A ringing bell across 

The prairie comes the bedrock:

I loved them and they loved me

On that 

River of birds, that 

Grassland of sky,

And there was all relation. 

They will tell me

What I am supposed to do,

The cranes, they always have.

My grandfathers.