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Poem about native American colonization. |
Day 1 Amaru spoke to me today In an undecipherable tone. He spoke of a story I wanted to hear In a way I really did not. They're here, he said, They're here once again. I let my long hair loose from the braid, But it did not feel comfortable. Perhaps I once would And yes, I did once, Welcome the newcomers, Listen to the prophecies. Day 2 I sharpened a quartz point Which was Father's job, Dyed clothing Which was Mother's job. I asked the spirits for help Without my family. I stood by the water Without my friends. Why was I alone? This answer's simple. They went to trade But didn't come back. Day 3 Their urgency was reasonable, My family's thoughts jumbled. They thought strangers could help But their friends couldn't. Drought's an awful thing. The strangers are leaving. I went to them, crying, And asked for my family. They looked at each other Not understanding. My words were translated And I got my family's fingers. Day 4 Before the strangers left, They told us of a blessing. They told us of a land, They told us of happiness. Before the strangers left, They gave a cross. They gave a book, and They gave a stick. The stick was new, But I was not curious. They took too much And gave too little. Day 5 What I did like, though Was a strange animal. It was the size of a human With beautiful eyes. It had four legs Which carried it like wind. A long flowing mane And an easy grace. Amaru gave it to me. I decided not to weave, Like a proper girl, But instead take it to the lake. Day 6 Today I tried fishing. It's a man's job, But a man cannot be So patient as I. My patience is my blessing. Not Catholicism. Not the Cross. Not Christianity. I did not yell, Nor scream, Nor thrash, When my family was taken. Day 7 I discover I do not fish For the food, or the peace. I fish for salmon. I fish for good luck. I must believe in luck. Luck will help me. With luck, I will heal. With luck, I won't scar. I'll find more people That I can confide in, Share my secrets with. That is what I'll do with luck. Day 8 Amaru cut his hair, As did many other men. They wear strange clothing, But honestly, they always have. Even if they always have, This is even weirder. It's a dress, but split. Split right through the middle. What else is split that way? My family, whose fingers I hold. Just not through the middle, But in many different ways. Day 9 Because of my young age, Because I'm pretty, A new family asked For me to join theirs. I have not caught one yet. I haven't caught a salmon. What brings this luck, I wonder? I won't even know. Maybe it was the stars. Maybe the deer from earlier. The trees did like greener, And the water bluer. Day 10 I'd not been given a name yet. My family was taken before. It was bad timing, very bad But I like my new name anyway. They named me Anna. It's a peculiar name. What's more peculiar is Their clothing, their items. They told me they'd go on a ship, And sail far away. Away from here, To Britain, perhaps another tribe. |