Moon at Midnight – Part XXVIII (day 2002)

(part XXVII)

The next day riders from other Blackfoot tribes came
And Mountain Chief, Moon Cow, and three other men
Rode off to a great meeting of Chiefs
I knew, and could tell,
That nobody was pleased with what the U.S. Army was doing
And tension was clearly in the air
Nobody felt comfortable
And people were becoming worried
Suspicious
These proud people were feeling scared
In the very land they had always lived free.

I spent the next few days with Willow and Lily
Walking through the grassland and forests
Looking for fuel and food
Waiting, I guess,
Our presence comforted each other
Reassured each other
All three of us had become very close
With all the time we had shared over the winter
It was exciting for me to recognize
How much Lily had already learned from her mother
She was very good at finding the herbs
That her mother would ask her to find for her
She would come back with a handful of them
And an even bigger smile on her face.

Willow told me that she had heard of other tribes
Being forced into slavery
To being held captive on certain land
The Government had given them
If they signed a Peace Treaty
I listened quietly,
For I had also heard such things
Further in the South and East
And was saddened from what I did hear
I asked Willow if she would want to live like that
And she said that she would not
She was born free and would obey nobody but the earth
I asked her if she would rather
Live off the land like a nomad
Always wandering more and more
Or if she would like to live more like Amy & Frank
She said she did not know
But that she did see the benefit of having land
To return to every year
Like Amy & Frank had
She asked me if I could build a house
Like Frank had built.

After four days and four nights
Mountain Chief returned with Moon Cow
And directly summoned me
And the other elders of the tribe
Into a gathering
He told us everything that had been talked about
How the other Chiefs didn’t trust
The U.S. Army men
That they threatened our whole way of life
And that if they got their way
It would be the end of us
He told us of visions he had listened to
And told us of his own vision
He himself had had one night
While camped along the river
He told us he had seen an owl
And had walked closer to ask him
What he was going to do
And the owl had told him
That when he sees the mouse
He then plans his action
In the middle of the night.

Mountain Chief told us that we would stay for two more days
On their traditional winter grounds
And that we would be moving
In the middle of the second night
So we all returned to our teepees
To begin preparation.

part XXIX

Athens (day 894)

I remember it there
A different kind of cement
Patch work
And cracks that weren’t cracks
And hand made fences of stones
Clearly crooked
But placed with utmost care
While the roads
Not the big North American style
But built for horse and cart
Slower traffic
Pequeño
While flower boxes teetered
On hooks and ledges
One hundred years old
And steep stair
That went to the top of a hill
Around a park
Upon which locals sat at night
Mingling in casual groups
Drinking in the streets
Setting off the busker’s alarm
Where on all the walls
All the buildings
All the staircases
Any last bit of exposed canvas
Was graffiti
Skulls, gas masks
Political hate
Grotesque mottos
Dreamed characters
And warm nights
I would walk down to my favorite café
Sit and talk to a cute girl
Excited I was foreign
A beautiful woman
With a foreign tongue to me
An exotic look to me
Serving me free shots of Rum
As I ate the complimentary peanuts
And commented on the quotes
Littered around the walls
I was a revolutionary with a fine perch
And the misfigured man
With an eye for a cheekbone
And a snarl for the other
Like those suspicious eyes yelled
But the kind soul he was
A political radio DJ
In a time past its prime
With an uphill walk home
And fuzzy contemplation
Past gas masks
Boys up to no good
Parked scooters
And the upstairs neighbors
Fucking all day
And especially all night
The sounds
First night there I thought
The sounds came from an alley cat
Never before
With a torrential heat
Driving any sober thoughts
Out the window
Sinking into the gay fellows bed
But the shower was nice
A clean house
A cheap house
In a beautiful city
Filled with angst
Sunk so deep
It poured out of eyelashes
It poured onto the streets
It fell out of cars
It was raised upon signs
It was marched along
It was a memory

Athens - 092012 (156 of 411)