Canoeing
written March 7th, 2021

I have spent the last few days
canoeing the Mackenzie River
making the journey in a book
with maps and words.

As I read it takes me back
to canoeing in my youth
the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness
along the northern border of Minnesota.

I can feel the paddle
pulling through the water
and hear the loons
crying at night.

The land around me
almost untouched since
Huron, Chippewa, Cree
Dakota and Ojibwa eyes
were the only ones
that had ever seen it.

Now I travel in thought and memory
the clear cold waters of the lakes
the portages through forested hills
taking me from one gem
of a lake and a memory
to the next.

Winter's livery,
Twisted tree twigs ghostly garbed,
*****, lusting Spring.

if it weren’t for my sliding mirror closet doors, my room would look much darker with only one lamp turned out.
that’s what i’m thinking about at 12:11am when i can’t sleep and have to work the morning shift.
dozens of friends have come and gone through my room, marveling at the 80s design and dusty gold colored edging that doesn’t match the accompanying oak trim along the walls in my house. they stare and stare at their reflections, our reflections. take pictures, post them on social media. watch the comments rake in. is this what we’ve come to?
i switched where my bed is in my room so that i don’t have to look into the mirror as i fall asleep; it felt too narcissistic and depressing. now i have my bookshelf in front of me and the little lamp that jumps off the mirror next to me. i have my fan blowing and my window open to the late autumn, early winter night air that i love.
i take deep breaths out of sight from the sliding doors that keep clothes i hardly ever wear safe. i sleep without it’s stare focused on me. i sleep without you on me, around me. i close my eyes, see the stars there, and sleep.

I dance attached to the roots that grew before me.
I dance to call the rains, to nourish the seeds planted by my ancestors.
I dance in honor.

I dance to release the pain,
Injected in our veins,
Through centuries of violence.

I dance to feel what freedom is.

I dance to remind the ground we are here.
I dance to make imprints on the earth.

We dance to feel what freedom is.

We dance to conjure the energy to carry on.
We dance to communicate with the moon and the sun.

We dance to imagine our future.

A future where the poisons of division have been shaken away.
A future built where healing is the only way.
A future that feels like a dance.
A future that gives all of us a chance.

George pleaded for his life
begged to breathe, requested
the continuity of his own existence
before the lynch with a knee
on the commemoration day
of many lives that have burned in vain
violent resistance on detention
a fabrication out of desperation
when all they had was the sick joy
of seeing an innocence in pain
fell silent and motionless
once and for all,
and he too, has burned in vain.

do not let that be a fact.

Eric waits, and now
George too.

I want you
To live with
The burden
Of remembering me

Remember my smile
And the way
It would curl
When you would
Kiss my cheek

Remember my hug
How warm
Every single embrace was
On those cold
Winter mornings

Remember my kiss
Each soft lip
Pressing against
Your own
Against your heart

Remember my laugh
How sweet
It sounded
Soft and loud
Throughout the day
And night

Remember my heart
No matter
How far away it is
Because it'll always
Remember you

I lay awake at night
Grasping for your hand
The hand that isn't there
The hand that will never
Be there
I toss and turn
Thinking about
What could have been
If only
You hadn't left
I imagine your lips
Tracing my neck,
My body
One last time
The one last time
That I didn't get
Because you knew
Before I did
And you shut me out
Starved me of
Your love
And it still
Keeps me awake
Late at night
When you're fast asleep
Miles away
In your big lonely bed
Because I never stopped
Loving
The empty space
Where you were

I wrote all these poems
Especially for you
And now you're gone
You took my poems
And broke my heart
Leaving nothing
In its place
But tears and grief

I wrote all these poems
Especially for you
To show you just
How much I loved you
The words came naturally
From my heart
To my pen
And now it's just heartbreak
From the hole in my chest
To my pen

I've got the urge
To cut up a storm
Create hurricanes on my legs
Tornados up my arms
While tears rain down
And thunder claps
As I huff out hot air
The only thing
Keeping me warm
Is my shaking
My shivering
While I lock myself in a tundra
Hoping to die somehow
Soon