Poetry

DuSable Remembers His Wife, Kittihawa

There is a way to say this in French:
The ceremony was a prairie lullaby.

Yes, She was my answer.
I could tallgrass all night. What I did:
lap my heartrend

away, love the sun on the lake of her,
fleet of foot. She homed a heartland
for me.

Maybe it was New Orleans that led me
Mississippi nigh toward this Deer

Spirit but My God, she could Earth
like only a Woman could. Yes, together

we manned the dirt into statues,
praised the land for its song.

We bickered over how to greet
the neighbors. She would learn

to hate me for my
willingness to stay.
The fire would come

but remember: there was a time
when she welcomed me here.

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