Poems from The Play

The influenza

came when I was seven

and seized the house with fever.

 

Uncle Whitewolf smudged

red cedar bough,

called ekapokowaapi,

on charcoal bits

to drive the death away.

 

I was the sickest.

They say the heat made

red paint run down my cheeks.

 

Uncle laughed.

 

"You will survive,"

He said, "If you just agree

to study Eagle Medicine."

Eyes watery, face

Wet with sweat, I say,

"Yes, yes, I'll study."

He names me

Memory Woman.

so I cannot forget.

 

The fever breaks,

but I am bound,

a small girl tied

to destiny

by ropes

of cedar smoke.