24 June 2016

Up.


TUTUWAS

 I know the names
 on this land
 have been changed,
 printed on maps
 made by those
 who claim their ownership.

 Some say nothing survives.

 But the wind
 still sings
 the same song
 of our breath.

 The hilltop trees
 still bend like dancers
 in ceremonies
 that never ended.

 And the little pines,
 tutuwas, tutuwas,
 lift up, protected
 from the weight of snow
 by the held-out arms
 of their elders.

Joseph Bruchac

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