Indigenous
I’m an original
born to this land
my first blood
watered the native Michigan rivers
red cardinal song
my after birth
seeded Flaming aboriginal Maple trees
I left my rubber soles
by that particular road
and carried a carved wood flute
to the circle of elms
we knew each other's names
and they never wavered
never struck
never dressed in rage
they whispered my true names
my land names
my wind names
they grew skin
like desert canyon walls
they sheltered nests
of baby mice in their roots
they stitched together
the marrow of my bones
threaded with the blood
of my Russian Cossack Grandfathers
who invaded
the Polish farms
of my Grandmothers
all escaped
across an ocean
into gang fights
factories, and fur coats
in the Detroit bar they founded
but I seek the amnesty of trees
to feather my bones
indigenous of earth
my hands
open to the dark soil
the light full crystalline moon
my brothers stayed to wear
the two right shoes of righteousness
they see my branches
as enemy
but I was born to this land
I marry willows
and bear children each spring
I synthesize the sun into shelter
for all my relations
I bury the word them
in the earth
with the seeds
of other
until they sprout
as us
not woman
not poet
not crossed
not voter
not veiled
not stoned
not alone
we return sky spacious
indigenous cells
shared
not the few
but all
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(1st Place Award: National Poetry Federation Winner’s Circle 2016. Published in Encore Anthology)
