• Condolence* for Frank Speck, April 2014 “Here,” the Curator says, “identify these.” Throwing the wampum on the table as though it is an inanimate thing. The answer is close at hand but the words catch in my throat the lights dim other voices whisper. “These damn Indians can’t tell one ...
  • Statement on Poetry  by Carol Bachofner I’ve been “writing things down” for a very long time. In fact I don’t recall when I didn’t. Because of the fact that I write things down, words are important to me. When I write poems, I am acutely aware that words are the ...
  • When the Smoke Fills My Eyes I could feel that there was something different about today when I woke up this morning. First of all, my eyes were stinging. The smoke from the morning cook fires was hanging low in the morning air. Every morning mom would start the cooking ...
  • Spring Thaw I arrive at mossy banks beside Birch sentries with battle torn limbs from winters fury We stand in silent honor of the river passing by grateful for the spring thaw on the Kennebec Highway of my ancestors liquid life carrying pieces of trees gliding in succession to places ...
  • Kuhtôqatun/Our Story: On Being a Native Writer Our story breathes within the rocks, trees and hills of New England. It is a living story, told in the colors of blood and sky, earth and sun. It runs through woodlands; swims through rivers, flies to the clouds, touches the boundless starry ...
  • The Wasp and Spider People in Low Income Tribal Housing i. Circles of Mud, Dust, and Spit the wasps were making their home inside the crease in the siding of my apartment they wove and wove circles of mud and dust and spit their numbers increased to thirty or fourty ...
  • Machias Bay Petroglyphs I wonder . . . I wonder Will things ever change? As time slowly rips away I wonder . . .I wonder As the water tears away chunks of stone slowly changing. . .rapidly changing I wonder . . .I wonder As I look upon this stone ...
  • Cultural Lives Matter by Paula Peters As Native Americans we endure regular acts of cultural degradation from children dressed up for Halloween in outfits that are a reflection of our traditional regalia to team mascots and sports fans wearing feathers and face paint mocking ancient spiritual rites and tradition. The ...
  • Weaver Weaver by weaver, Up and under each standard Up and under As my hand moves in rhythm A figure starts to emerge A figure of the ancestors Silently whispering Reminding us they are still here Through tradition Through language They are still here To the naked eye a basket ...
  • Turquoise and Steel Here I am Using anxious hands to create fluorescent lines Like moths desperately searching for light, I hunt for words to illuminate this paper With the love story my Aunt and Uncle have been writing for sixty-four years. I give up. The words I need do not ...
  • Sequence of Life I held on to your soul While you sold Your last celestial breath To the skies and all her stars. We sat before the rolling seas Filled with much trepidation, Never quite sure how to surrender Our words and bodies to all their beauty. I can’t remember ...
  • League -Falls Church, Virginia Friday! Finally five o’clock! I grab my coat, purse and duffel bag, quickly change from corporate to jeans, run down the stairs to my car and head west to Bowl America where friends, seated at tables along ten lanes reserved for our American Indian League, are ...

Issue no. 3

The Third Issue