- She marches to birth / like an execution set / fire/ the sun wound round the corner / the fire in your eyes turns to hate /. pushing/playing / praying/we sit in a circle /telling stories / how do we carry the children home/ with dirty faces / and muddy feet / waiting for the bread to rise/boosting / one last turn..
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
unpublished poem/1980/Through the Birth of NAVAHJO
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