© 2003 by Carol Dee Meeks

He dances hunch-backed,
This merry minstrel crooner,
Gamboling high on the rocks
On curved feet, there are no socks.

At night, he leads you past the pueblos
And out into the sunless light
The shadow of which, on you, plays tricks
His movement flickers like candle wicks.

But seeing is believing
The night skies outline his image
With trusty flute, his mischievous profile
Trumpets his music many a mile.

This playful silhouette and merry watchman
Symbolizes fertility and abundance, they say
Can be seen in upward canyon country and cliffs
Above the prehistoric carvings of petroglyphs

Although it is a Southwest legend,
He stole homeland for the Hopis
From America’s mighty Eagle bird
He dances quite above the herd. 

Now, I see him when day gives way to dusk
He leans back comfortably into a song
His flute echoes charm and a winsome tune
I see his movements in the moon.