Prairie Queen
Under the shadow of the belfry spire,
ferns as spicy as sandalwood
overarch a velvet ant on parade.
With a glass lizard in the vanguard
and a spangled fritillary bringing up the rear,
she pomps toward the river,
over newts
and under nettles,
attended by a whirligig
of bumblebees and dragonflies.
Garbed in yellow and imperial red,
wingless
but not stingless,
not an ant at all,
a wasp, in fact,
she marches to the music of chimes from the Chapel.
The Mississippi,
flooding below,
is dimpled and dappled,
dusky with loam
from Wisconsin and Minnesota.
Limestone bluffs beetle vertiginously.
Goggle-eyed,
she cocks her head and peers ...