Monday, June 4, 2012

Simon Ortiz, "Out of the Canyon near Two Turkey Ruin"

We walked up towards the sky.
From some millionth year to the present.
Cold rock under our feet
and all around us.
You breathe the same wind which is kin to sky.

Croak. Off the stone cliffs.
Crow. Black rag.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" asked Crow.
"You think too much," said Coyote.

Look back
down into the canyon, horses, winter cottonwoods,
silver stream, across the canyon, shadows,
red cliffs and white snow.

Crow slips past the edge of the canyon,
all the way into the sky.
"I wish I wasn't so scorned," said Coyote.
"You wish too much," said Crow.

Talk about life
all the sun and blue sky time
and smile.

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