YUSEF KOMUNYAKAAY
"Night of the Armadillo"

You huddle into a shield or breastplate,
a whisper in the dark summoning your kin
one by one along the frontier. In your kingdom,
errant knight of undergrowth, even in your gut
fear, you’re always on the verge of a new border
or at the edge before crossing into the interior
of false prophecies. Desert blooms or berries
fall into marshy hush. Around a sharp curve
planetary lights spring out of nothingness.
How did you go wrong? With only blind faith
& a dead star left in your eyes, where’s North
America? You’ve been around eons,
not knowing when you’ve left one age
& entered another, but I found your Olympus
of foolish odds in the modern world.
Lovers in cars, delivery trucks make leaves
tremble along the roadside. If you know this,
little suitcase of guts & nails,
you are still alive,
even with your broken hinges.