Poetry of Love, Resistance, & Solidarity

A night aviator stirs, leaving a token of its presence.
In that singular feather resides the song of the plains.
When mesozoic vessels were attuned with that hymn,
callow clouds concealed the land from the sky.
Those vessels soon took flight with locust wings and buffalo hides,
and raptors and arachnids, reaching the limit of the high.
They rose with the tribal drums, church bells, and such
beyond the spurring prairie roosters that now clash under a copper dome.
These vessels have come and gone like the shorebirds,
who, on occasion, claim this land as their home.

— Bill Hagman


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