March 7, 2009

Floating Flowers

My Great Grandmother
French Indian Border Reiver

Bare feet
Carry restless legs
Through darkest back wood night
Where stripped bare trees
Bid stars to shine on high so bright

Sweat laden chest
Causes cross to cling on breast
While white breath
On winter wind
In panic comes to rest

Mother straps sleepless babe
Over mad pounding of heart in chest
Closing her eyes
She floats down stream
Past empty burning nests

In hopes of reaching
Freedom’s dream
On the shores
Of the sun drenched west
Written in memory of women
who survived forced migration

Rutting Bull Dance

Golden brown hair
worn in a loose braid
tickles my back

My eyes
are bohemian blue

I am 5 foot 7 inches
and weigh 150 pounds
of solid lean muscle

I am built like a man
with large teenage breasts

My nails grow long like stone
from the tips of my fingers

My hands are calloused
from swinging a double edge axe
with deadly force

I wear a size 9 work boot
covered in red mud

I smell like leather
rolled corn and oats
mixed with the sweat of livestock

I have the natural stride of a man
with a thousand mile stare

I have the punch
of a ten pound cannon ball
and the kick of a mule

I have a mind
that is not afraid to speak

I like cold bacon beans
and cornbread

for my drink

I rise up
with the sun
go to the ground
with the moon.

From tree tops
I sing away
all my own sorrows

I bathe in rivers
and streams

I sigh deeply
under a sky
full of stars

I fear no man
or beast
of the field

I talk to God
all day
clean my shotgun
every night

Today I am dancing a jig
at a country shin dig

And all the young single men
Are wishing they owned enough ponies
to make me their bride