Saturday, February 11, 2017

February Poetry


"Loud are the thunder drums in the tents of the mountains.
Oh, long, long
Have we eaten chia seeds
and dried deer's flesh of the summer killing.
We are tired of our huts
and the smoky smell of our clothing.
We are sick with desire for the sun
And the grass on the mountain.

Paiute Late Winter Song

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Did you see the Snow Moon last night? So named by the American Indians who used it to calculate the end of winter.

Florence said...

Yes, I did see it. And I hope they are right--I am ready for winter to be over! Hope all is well with you and David.