Friday, January 25, 2013

Idle No More 2013

His Feast: Her broken Fast
by Rosanna Deerchild

His feast:
Her broken fast

Harper doesn't need to worry
About the woman on the hill

She’s already dead
From the arrows in her back

Those headdress & handshakes
Did the trick a treaty real good

Slip a token promise
Of more talk in their tea

They pack up her tipi
Even sweep up her mess

He’s not responsible
For what desperate men will do

Smiles in all the pictures
Says nothing of honor

Thinks of what he will eat
After all this is over

Theresa of the hill
Far away & forgotten

He doesn't know
About the others

Just reaching
The horizon

The girl who danced
All the way

In a storm her blue regalia
Flashes lightening

In the open plain
Her sisters’ drum

Song is thunder
Across the land

Young men walk
Talk in new languages

Carry new weapons
Learned from history

Along side the highway
An old woman carries a sign

An old man marches
Just as he did in war time

The women bang on the door
Followed by leaders

Who refuse to fall
For the same old tactic

Of divide
Subtract and distract

Harper doesn't know
The round dance is not over

Until the circle
Is complete

Until all the people
Are dancing

As one
We are here

To dance at your feast
Sing the story of your lies

Stand with our ancestors
We are hungry


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1 comment:

The Editor said...

Great and moving poem. Thanks.