effigy mounds

There lay a cluster to the east, that nearly took my breath away. An ancient way of life, guarded by the thunderbird. The fox is sleek and his guile fools no one. Nearby, the falcon swallows his pride and guards the lost generations. The spirits dance at the festival. They move rhymatically back and forth in time, a lost generation gracefully looking up among the stars. To the west, the eagle spreads his wings and carries chosen souls to land. The turtle, deer, and eagle- the moon, the sun, the North Star. My being pressed against the shore of the lake, my heart beating towards the other side.