Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Day 329
4:39 pm
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abandoned by the rez
–
once was an old mattress made of devils’ feathers,
there to remind mothers why they never wanted
to have daughters, they may poke holes in their woes
housed amongst the walls who called for more
walls, brick inside of wood, under concrete and
dirty rotten police tape, brittle by their promises
a girl lay there alone one night, nestled in the noise of
siren’s wings, heavier than the spirit swiftly passing
from her body, the moment’s only possible grace
once followed the shadows made of salt and fire,
structure stained with the sweat of angry boys
and tears of fallen daughters, told to seal their lips
once more, their voices, collective and awakened
though they may be, are put to sleep, once on
the reservation, no one to argue with anymore
–
–
tkk
(r.i.p. Marquita Walking Eagle)
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