Across the golden aspen blue of these black hills
the wind sifts patterns of might and right
voices floating the hither and yon of 16 miles
carving stories amid the mist.
The great fathers of Rushmore completed their tasks
in vast finite frames
history’s might here long since cut to granite faces
and to a resolution men need to move tomorrow.
The vanquished meander meanwhile
stone stubborn still singing
of Crazy Horse Lakota chief
pinioned between the bison rich plains
and the great fathers' reservation.
On any morning here
a conversation continues
within anyone inclined to listen
from the pinnacles to the prairie
about what use today
need make of yesterday.