Her, Too
she spoke in a slaughtered language;
otherwise the audience forgot
the price of their good-natured front.
it was an effort no doubt futile,
perhaps tweaking a few wrinkles,
salting a couple hairlines.
judged by the pale shadow
of many a buried, massacred bone,
white was the color of death.
white
whether on a proclamation,
a treaty, deed, or scalp-wanted poster,
or beneath the robe on a missionary’s waist.
the audience listened,
but of course they were innocent;
descended from sins
beyond their own memory.
they watched
with eyes as wide as the Earth.
a nod or two to the value of the land,
and maybe a few special birds
or trees.
there were no tears of the sort
which carved out a a trail.
mostly the tears were blue.
blue on white.
==================
9/24/25 eds
10/13 ... changed a word, feel really uncomfortable writing about this at all.
6/26/24
not sure I should be writing about this at all, arrogant White poet... (?)
Inspired by a guest speaker at UMM
8/12 .. fixed second stanza
7/30/22 .. huge changes to flow and structure of poem
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