Poem from the Cree
The Cree have retreated from the streets.
Their violinist has taken time out, leaving
his last notes dancing from a street lamp.
Only the Fire-Brave remains, inhaling thick
black oily smoke. He juggles twin balls of fire.
Their violinist has taken time out, leaving
his last notes dancing from a street lamp.
Only the Fire-Brave remains, inhaling thick
black oily smoke. He juggles twin balls of fire.
Bones gather together to gather dry dust. Hollow
metal buffalo: a cold wind blew and plucked out
his heart. Five climate controlled pedestrian
walkways cross the prairie, linking building
to building. A glass wheat field shimmers
and tinkles to the rhythm of air conditioning.
The black cow, cast iron hide set free from rust,
ruminates behind its plate glass window.
The night wind whisks white buffalo bones
pale across the sky. Oskana ka asasteki.
With these words, I will leave you, suddenly,
abruptly. A light going out. Now I am here.
Oskana ka asasteki. And now I too am gone.
abruptly. A light going out. Now I am here.
Oskana ka asasteki. And now I too am gone.
Comment: Another Golden Oldie, re-discovered. I wrote this in Regina back in the nineties, last century, last millennium … how long ago is that? In our kitchen, an ear of wheat, purchased in the glass wheat field museum, still shelters in its gilded frame, a memento from that trip. So many memories, so many pictures, drifting … just drifting.
Another uncovered gem, Roger. Chilling!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have changed it slightly for its final resting place. Made it even spookier!
LikeLiked by 1 person
❤ .
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on rocksandbones and commented:
Rocks and Bones are what is all comes down to. I love this poem by exiled Welshman, Roger Moore…bred from the Welsh limestone but in this stark and haunting bone-scattered poem you can hear the fading voices of Cree ghosts…
LikeLiked by 1 person
superb! Left a cold draught in the heart…in a good way! Tweeted this.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Polly, and thanks for the re-blog too. I appreciate that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
tweeted too
LikeLiked by 1 person
A double thank you. Our neighbor’s ginger cat has just appeared on our balcony and scattered all the birds and squirrels. Thought inspired by tweeters!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think that’s called synchronicity!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Synchron is a Kitty? It’s sunny here today and warm Our snow is melting and all’s right with the world. On a day like today, spring isn’t too far away. You’ve got Doris, though, and she doesn’t sound too great.
LikeLiked by 1 person
She hasn’t hit too badly here in Swansea. Just about to take the boys who are on half term break to check out the sea, see how strong-tossed it is. They aren’t impressed, more inclined to stick to the Lego right now, but it’s dry, so out we go!
LikeLiked by 1 person
“And still I live in hopes to see, Swansea Town once more.” Lucky you: oh to watch the waves from the Mumbles Pier as was!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well the waves didn’t disappoint! We went to Caswell, Rotherslade and Mumbles. They have revamped Mumbles Pier and there is a new lifeboat house. If you miss these cliffs I did write a poem called ‘Ossify’ (somewhere on my blog) which was inspired by a walk between Langland and Caswell, a bit by a certain frame and a smidgeon by Dylan Thomas.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Caswell Bay … brings tears to the eyes … just around the corner from Brandy Cove and Pwll Ddu. I’ll go looking for Ossify. Thanks for the tip.
LikeLiked by 1 person
sort of…
LikeLike
This is haunting.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A great many of the old spiritual places have that haunting quality about them. There is a spirit floating in the air and if you are alert you can feel it. Sometimes it seizes you and takes you over for a moment or two. This, for me, is the spirit of place.
LikeLike
Something haunting but wonderful.dear roger !!what is the meaning of ‘ – oskana ka masasteki?.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pile of old bones, in Cree, I believe.
LikeLike
Oh ;now i have unstand dt ur beliefes are related from cree i.e. indian american inhabitants in central Canada.it is right?dear roger.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cree, according to my friends, is the second language of Saskatchewan. The Cree are a proud First Nations people with a long history.
LikeLike
Yeah.i know.
LikeLiked by 1 person
“Now I’m here”…”Now I’m gone”…
It is a fascinating piece. I love the juxtaposition of the old against the modern…one to ponder.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Tanya. It was well received when I read it to members of the SWF in Regina, all those years ago. Today had been a day of many discoveries: there is so much stuff lurking in those old archives.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Such great finds!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful Poetry:)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for the comment and thanks for visiting.
LikeLike