Lauca
en verano
wiry fuzzy young llamas and vicuñas
kick their long camel-colored limbs
across the altiplano
like paper dolls with brass brad joints
their more sedate mothers stand by
all four feet gathered to a point
as if balancing on a ball
slanty-eyed supple viscachas huddle together
under peach-colored rocks out of the rain
then sprint straight up a slope
to their next natural lookout
everything goes green
and around each verdant life
there’s an even more brilliant
rough ring of moss
maybe made by fairies dancing
or, then again, maybe just a peculiar habit of its growth
which studs the hills and plains with living magic –
food for all the fuzzies
