This land is pretty old, for sure,
before the buffalo held it
in their thundering whiteness clutching life,
and were returned from extinction.
Though native cultures were lost
as if never born.
After all, Europeans had not arrived
when empty. And the huge volcano underfoot
will erupt again—a cataclysm more devastating
than Mt. St. Helens.
We should not think the white only snow
slowly falling and stopping to return the light
of the sun or stars circling over the gulf
of this clear sky.
All together finding I only arrived
in a fragment of time that I can leave words
in the air, and the footprints that say I am here.
However brief it may have been.
Today I’m trying to recover this perfect light,
this snow, this old country full of fire and beauty
still I know, and what is ever changing.
Stephen Cipot
Garden City Park