For Buff, Zora, and MJ, Paris, November 2015

Across the homelands
We keep watch,

We see the future coming

The buffalo have now returned 

They graze the grasses long in spring 

And winter wheat will come in time

For harvest after solstice.

I am Tatanka Itancan.

Water glints in morning sun,

A shadow curves to surface light

Folds back down, a graceful dive,

Scales flash and disappear.

I am Cante Skuya Win 

While arching high and over us

Thermal riders fly through clouds,

We hear their cries, the darkening skies,

The Golden Eagle watches.

I am Anunkasan Tokaheya

Across the homelands

We keep watch,

Though we may leave and then come back

To care for Unci Maka

And so this is our vision now,

Ancestors guided us to this

We ask you keep your promises 

We pledge that we'll keep ours. 

We're all one heart, one voice, one plan, 

The one Creator gives us.

No Way Out

Out in the meadow the Japanese maple

Burns red in November sun, slanting in low enough to uplight

The lowest limbs.

Red, it pierces me, destabilizing an

Already unsteady self, wraps anger

And fear twinning as I fight the tears.

In past times I've loved the fall, my

Season, the season of my birth,

I thought that I've been good and strong

And tried to occupy my space and time

With some intention; 

With love and an open heart.

Red, like blood, like fire, fugitive,

This intensity.