Wednesday, July 7, 2010


Howie Good

The horse collapsing on the bridge,
the fire in the background,

the use of the moon,

its flesh and fur stripped away
with elk-bone scrappers

and its hide made pliable
with the buffalo’s mashed brains.

The wolf sits back
on its haunches and watches.

The eye is the hammer.

To polish a diamond,
there is nothing like its own dust.