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Note from November 30, 2002

  

Perhaps shadows from tallow candles

darted against lodge walls

and smokehole peaks like does the 

candle flame on this table flickers

in time to the accentuated breaths of 

the flute player ...

Perhaps these Hidatsa-Mandan strains 

have been heard upon this very land

two hundred years ago,

perhaps a thousand,

and the land needs to hear it again.

Comments

Joe - Wednesday's Child said…
I just did a search, and your blog is the only place it appears on the WWW.

Amazing writing!
February 28, 2022 at 9:01 AM
Jack Pine Savage said…
You have the poet's touch which WC's search verifies.
The poem is elegant, poignant and both despair and hopeful joy.
Thank you for bringing this work out of candlelight and into sunshine.
February 28, 2022 at 9:15 AM
WannaskaWriter said…
Thanks you two. They are just a few lines I rediscovered in papers I am going through, and thought to publish in my blog here than to rebury them possibly forever.
March 10, 2022 at 3:45 PM
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