ANGELS & COYOTES

by Kallima Hamilton

Leonid meteors pepper the western sky
where eagle chicks hide in the belly of pine.
Smoke signs gone, I'm
confused by the strong shaman dust
of old peyote buttons and broken bones.
The pain
of lonely cloud whisperers
is echoing their silence with arrows of forever.
Here, along tear-stained trails,
angels & coyotes
dance hungrily
high on the ridge, moon-drunk, howling.
Vision quest, shape shift,
our minds luminous from fasting,
we see through vast canyons of stars,
straight to the heart of Earth Mother
who lives on this dangerous rim.
Some strange ghost glitters
at the far edge of lodge pole, skims
sage, speaks vaguely about rain
for blue corn. Caught between
flesh and earth, we shudder under
shadows of loose feather and stone.