This comes from the time that I spent--
I think I probably traveled 50,000 miles teaching poetry
to 50,000 people in Montana.
I was fortunate to be able to spend time
in the Salish Kootenai reservation, Blackfoot, Crow,
Fort Peck, and this comes from time spent--
about 75 miles from my home--
in the Mission Mountains, working at a place
called Two Eagle River School.
"What Makes the Grizzlies Dance."
"June and finally snowpeas sweeten in the Mission Valley.
High behind numinous meadows ladybugs swarm,
like huge lacquered fans from Hong Kong,
like the serrated skirts of blown poppies,
whole mountains turn red.
And in the blue penstemon grizzly
bears swirl as they bat snags of color
against their ragged mouths.
Have you never wanted to spin like that
on hairy, leathered feet, amid the swelling berries
as you tasted a language of early summer?
Shaping the lazy operatic vowels,
cracking the hard shelled consonants
like ruby insects between your teeth,
have you never wanted to waltz the hills like a beast?"