Hunter's
Moon - Wyoming
by
John Hayes
A
leaf straggles to the ground.
Wyoming's
winter sun casts finger shadows.
Beneath
the snow covered ground
dead
cowboys writhe in narrow tombs.
Their
fleshless bodies long to rise,
rattle
dry bones beneath a Hunter's Moon.
The
sun glides toward the West.
Tomorrow
and the next the sun will rise
and
the cycle will repeat,
measuring
days until the sun explodes.
A
fiddler's tune will sound
in
the blackness of the land.
Buried
bones will articulate
clatter-dance
on the frozen waste
as
they ride the hurtling rock
through
an expanding universe.
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