Wednesday, February 23, 2005Pa-ho-jaMy sorrow runs deep Metaphorical quicksand Moving through my body Preparing me for burial In the roots, my blood One-sixteenth indigenous Three sisters of life Grown upon the earth Bark huts in the summer Woven cattail leaves For winter lodges, Ita-hos The language of my ancestors Traces of French... Sign in to see full entry.posted by MiaElla at 10:08 AM Comments (3) (permalink) |
