This poem is written in the style of the Swampy Cree Indians, as demonstrated in Howard Norton’s book, Wishing Bone Cycle: Narrative Poems of the Swampy Cree Indians. More information can be found here: http://www.amazon.com/Wishing-Bone-Cycle-Narrative-Indians/dp/0915520443. This particular poem is about someone very dear to me. Enjoy!
Who Saw Doves
She came to us from the shore,
pale-skinned with stringy
yellow hair.
Vultures smelled sea salt
on her flesh, swooped near her
ears, and crowed, We love
you.
We told her not to believe
them — that they wanted to taste
the ocean fish in her
belly — but she could not hear
us over the beating
of feathers.
Laughing, she climbed the oak
tree and crawled into the nest.
Surrounded by vultures, she whispered,
How lovely to be a friend
of the doves.
