in snow clouds.
The wind cries.
It piles the snow
in drift banks
against the poles
of the sheep corral.
It pushes against the door
of my mother's hogan,
and it cries.
The wind cries out there
in snow clouds.
The wind cries.
It piles the snow
in drift banks
against the poles
of the sheep corral.
It pushes against the door
of my mother's hogan,
and it cries.
The wind cries out there