Custer

Washington
Idaho
Montana
nothing in every direction.
we play with the cats for diversion
passing them between our two-car caravan

Wyoming breakfast
at the Harley and Cowboy truck stop
complete with petting zoo buffalo

Dakota plains
undulate and stretch forever
creeping into my consciousness
I watch them for a long time –
young Indian boys on their ponies. flying free

The August winds blow hot
I leave cats inside a tent with an Indian family
in exchange, I buy jewelry

Custer Battlefield lies silent –
the only movement is the grasses
bending to the will of the wind
grains of dirt sting my face
we are warned rattlesnakes may be hiding
in the taller grass at the cemetery

Larger than life murals
confront us inside and out
At the row of souvenir tents I retrieve the cats

We drive through a small Indian village –
trailers, small block houses, few comforts

The August wind is so hot and stinging.