dragonblue


tongue tied turnings
churn the insides
piling high to topple and wallow
stair steps crawled upon
slipping
grasping
to catch
to find isolated incongruence
where feathers ruffle
and break
an open entry
to renewal
a testimonial of peasantry
a diary entry
scrawled in small bleeding fingers
proof that i’m
a live
alive
trying
extending
sun pulling
moon pulsing
tasting comfort
in exasperated
life force
RE-instating
the vast vessel
of I
triumph wiggles
through the mud
and smiles

An Anishnabe Legend




Many, many years ago when the world was new, there was a beautiful river. Fish in great numbers lived in this river, and its water was so pure and sweet that all the animals came there to drink.
A giant moose heard about the river and he too came there to drink. But he was so big, and he drank so much, that soon the water began to sink lower and lower.
The beavers were worried. The water around their lodges was disappearing. Soon their homes would be destroyed.
The muskrats were worried, too. What would they do if the water vanished? How could they live?
The fish were very worried. The other animals could live on land if the water dried up, but they couldn’t.
All the animals tried to think of a way to drive the moose from the river, but he was so big that they were too afraid to try. Even the bear was afraid of him.
At last the fly said he would try to drive the moose away. All the animals laughed and jeered. How could a tiny fly frighten a giant moose? The fly said nothing, but that day, as soon as the moose appeared, he went into action.
He landed on the moose’s foreleg and bit sharply. The moose stamped his foot harder, and each time he stamped, the ground sank and the water rushed in to fill it up. Then the fly jumped about all over the moose, biting and biting and biting until the moose was in a frenzy. He dashed madly about the banks of the river, shaking his head, stamping his feet, snorting and blowing, but he couldn’t get rid of that pesky fly. At last the moose fled from the river, and didn’t come back.
The fly was very proud of his achievement, and boasted to the other animals.
“Even the small can fight the strong if they use their brains to think.”