Strange spring sounds break the silence.
       Digging in a dead-man in a blown-out fence
       on an April morning, north of the Dismal.

              A walk to the hilltop, the source revealed
              amidst the blowouts and soapweed
              badgers chase, play and mate, calling,
              a strange, grunting dance of...love?

                     As minutes pass and the ritual continues
                     thoughts turn to Bethel girls, crying out
                     in backseats, legs lifted to heaven, Oh god!