Dusk,
an ember of the sun.
Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’
Hazy Snow Flurries
Posted in American Indian, Anishinabe, Chippewa, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Uncategorized, tagged American Indian, Native American, Nature, Poems, Poetry on December 24, 2015| 1 Comment »
Hazy snow flurries.
Winter white waves
glisten in the headlights,
ebbing and flowing across the blacktop,
as I drive home late at night,
in Red Lake
The Frogs Are Shaking Their Rattles
Posted in American Indian, Anishinabe, Chippewa, Culture, Native American, Nature, Poem, Poems, Poetry, tagged American Indian, Anishinabe, Chippewa, Native American, Nature, Poem, Poems, Poetry on July 27, 2015| 4 Comments »
The Frogs are shaking their rattles
with no discernible rhythm.
They stand unseen
beyond the reach of the porch light.
surrounding the house
in the sultry night air
summoning me.
In Red Lake
Posted in American Indian, Anishinabe, Chippewa, Native American, Nature, Poem, Poems, Poetry, tagged American Indian, Anishinabe, Chippewa, Native American, Nature, Ojibwe, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Reflection on April 26, 2015| 2 Comments »
A Black bear frosted with cinnamon sits on the side of the road.
An Eagle peers into the distance from her high perch over the shoreline.
Two geese bugle as they fly just over head,
against the background of a Minnesota blue-white sky,
in Red Lake.
Four Owls
Posted in American Indian, Anishinabe, Chippewa, Culture, Indian Values, Native American, Nature, Owls, Poem, Poems, Poetry, tagged American Indian, Anishinabe, Chippewa, Native American, Nature, Owls, Poem, Poems, Poetry on April 18, 2015| 6 Comments »
This morning, amid the rose-red rays of the rising sun
and the sounds of the birds singing it to rise
and the sounds of traffic from a highway not seen but heard
the four owls surround my house and encourage me.
“Go to Red Lake.”
Kă·kĕ·gē´·zhĭk Up Close And Personal
Posted in American Indian, Anishinabe, Chippewa, Culture, Language, Native American, Nature, Poem, Poems, Poetry, tagged American Indian, Anishinabe, Chippewa, Culture, Native American, Nature, Poem, Poems, Poetry on March 16, 2015| Leave a Comment »
You perch with your mate,
directly in front of me,
and unmistakably declare your name.
The sound of your name follows you as you fly around.
I see you… A Grey Crested Tit Mouse.
Why has no one else heard this wonderful thing?
