Got me in a fix again, I see
a white rider in the sky.
Mesa mountain and inselberg draw me
where no avatar can lie.
I got a seat on a wagon train for free,
hazel eyes stare back in fright.
Overhead the milky way guides me,
sacred spirit of the night.
By the dirt house, all in patient pose;
a prairie wind blows her dress.
Devil sun and skull of buffalo,
red is grey where none confess.
Harvest in, piece of grass in my lips,
shadow birds cross amber sky.
She’s here – drops the dress to her hips –
the nest of red where we’ll lie
copyright Francis Barker 2019