John Straw The 2River View, 7.2 (Winter 2003)

Native Blanket

Starting with the orange twisted with purple mist
As it dies away to green flashes beneath telephone
Wires like tepees declining with the daylight

          We thought we had caught

On canvas with the threads left from another
Attempt to cover an era of sleeplessness as it slid
Around the edge of the competitive knot too tight

          To stand outside at night

Remembering hookahs and watering one
Slight blade as it is pressed below a dark form
That must have been here before and will remain

          After we finish remembering

How the natives had made it so much brighter
Luminescent wordlessness in tongues we will never
Translate or break because we will never feel the pain

          Or capture their way of mourning.

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