A big buzz circles.

Her head bowed over a biography–

Of Henry David Thoreau.

She ignores

                   whatever

you are…

Bottom grounded.

Her back presses

against the Ranger tire,

and the late afternoon glow

fires the prairie.

But, buzzy

Insistent

comes back,

rounds her head again

and this time she guesses—

The fuzzy

black- yellow bumblebee

drops like a bomb into a ground-hole

two feet in front her lean crossed legs.

Suddenly the Old dog, Professor Skookum pads past;

Her chest draws tight–

his big foot falls on the spot—

crushing…?

Professor Skookum continues on to drink prairie pond;

Cattail seeds gently parachute to earth

and softly she separates the sugar-rich grass.

   Her words fall … “Are you down there?” –

Silence.

And then so faintly…  “Hush, not the tomb; I’m in the zone, … I’m in the zone…”

Skookum takes a shallow swim – he shakes and the ring of water- pellets fling jewels– a peacock’s tail. Unconcernedly… in the zone, …in the zone.

 

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