I am alone and sounds, here, are foreign
until I feel feather of memory
lift me home, carry me , dearly,
back home to where Jack Fish
are trying to become sky swimmers
in navy nights blanketed with season’s
deep purple dying sunset.
I am homesick for wolves howl,
Eagles’ spiral, wood smoke curling
through community hunkered down
for a night of cards and old country music,
laughter and Riverside Louis, singing
at the top of his lungs as he weaves
his sodden stitches towards another
all night visitation with voices
and broken bottles under bridge
where moonlight is his nightlight.
I am hungry for smoked, dried moose meat,
salted whitefish, twenty-four hour coffee,
and my sisters around my table
that holds Kleenexes and flowers
and camaraderie I have never had
since leaving, like lone wolf,
packing a bone off to begin new clan.
I do not hear loons here, like there,
where heart was stunned.
Nor does night hover shiver my soul
as it rides wide cool downdraughts
over lake and fringy forest. No ducks
can be heard nattering at night,
like old women discussing their day
around a boiling pot of tea.
How heart heads for home,
every chance it gets. I am,
in this, a granddaughter of Lesser Slave Lake
where I know grandmothers are searching
for me, to wrap their shawls
over my tired shoulders, in a comfort of kin
under ancestor’s dance as they hum
my name across Northern Alberta skies.
Author notes
Man am I homesick..now is the time the north comes alive... and, typically, me as well.
A contest entry
- Silence by -ButterflyCuts-.
300 points, ended June 6, 2007, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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This is beautiful. Your love of 'home' is truly heartfelt in the images you paint with your words...The loon stanza is exquisite (can almost hear their hollow trill, and the ducks nattering away) Enjoyed this...hope you get to go home soon!
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I am leaving in exactly two weeks, a long ride across the US and then on up into Canada on the West Coast... I can hardly wait.
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"I do not hear loons here, like there,
where heart was stunned.
Nor does night hover shiver my soul
as it rides wide cool downdraughts
over lake and fringy forest."
Sighhh...stunningly beautiful, my Sister...Such incredible, deft use of language & metaphor...I hope you get to go home soon, Sweetie...Until then, we shall wrap our blankets around your weary shoulders & hum silken songs to solace your bones...Good luck in Jess' contest, my dear Friend...
Wanda
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I feel lonely this evening with my sister having flown out this morning.... two weeks can not go by fast enough now.
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Thank God for your "feather of memory"
You brought us all home with you.
Such picturesque speech, you took me there,
I thank you for the trip!
You are Wonderful, Poet ~ Nicholas ~
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Thank God for your "feather of memory" You brought us all home with you.*hug* Such picturesque speech, you took me there, I thank you for the trip!:) You are Wonderful, Poet*hug* :f *hug* ~ Nicholas ~
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and I shall keep you updated, to be sure
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