A big buzz circles.
Her head bowed over a biography–
Of Henry David Thoreau.
Her back presses
against the Ranger tire,
and the late afternoon glow
fires the prairie.
rounds her head again
and this time she guesses—
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—
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?” –
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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