Autumn Song in 4 Voices
1 On one of the last warm days / on the rez, we want
2
3
4
1 music. So, Frank puts on / a Nils Frahm record
2 as the autumn
3
4
1 The Whole Universe Wants to be Touched –
2 flies cling / to the last rays of green, gold, orange sun.
3
4
1 Human Range – ForeverChangeless –
2 Inside every window, they buzz / an insistent yearning
3
4
1
2 to live / an extra day or two.
3 But tomorrow will not answer. / Unhurried,
4
1 Momentum –
2 They keep coming. Buzz.
3 I bring the flyswatter down. / Again. Again. It’s not
4
1 Fundamental Values –
2 Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
3 personal. / We just want to hear / the pianette
4
1 Harm Hymn –
2
3 and marimbas. /I play along with Nils, / a light
4
Our dog
1
2 Decrescendo.
3 percussive tap, tap, tap / on the glass.
4 starts barking / staccatos / at a passing car.
1 It
2 is
3 all
4 A turkey vulture circles in the sky. melody.
Road Trip
We watch our lives disappear
in the rear window. The city, its veneer of smoke
and mirrors, its reflection a promise
that money is always closer than it appears.
My hands slick on the wheel, nerves
like dandelions about to fly, bearing the dream
of making a new home somewhere
else. Our dog whines, vomits on the seat
then falls asleep. We drive past motels and gas stations, until
we are nineteen again and all we see
is sky. You teach me
how to recognize trees
birch: white pine: cones cedar: giizhik I bury
my nose in the sweetness
of peeling trunks and needled branches, remember
the softness of leaves and bark. The earth, opening
to me like a sunrise
for the first time.
Combo 5
1.
Today I choose / the memory
of you / picking me up from kindergarten /
our Friday treat / I have grasped
at clouds / for others / you
knitting / gardening / picking out fish
bones with perfect technique / If I am
not careful / these will be / the only ones
I keep
2.
I remember / on the 49 bus / you
saying Hallo / to the driver
and everyone else / Hallo / Hallo /
Hallo / I watched in wonder as you / received
what you gave / faces turning
to you / like sunflowers / to the sun
no such thing / as small revolutions
3.
I remember / our final test / lining up
at the Fraser McDonald’s, long gone /
How can I help you two
today? / You, pushing a slip
of paper forward, / a quick glance /
a nod / and it was done /
Combo 5, / Fish Filet meal / comin’ right up
4.
I remember / our onlookers’
amazement. / a miracle, us
getting what we came for / with nothing
more than a Hallo / and a number on scrap
paper / a miracle
of fish and bread
5.
But above all / I remember
your dismay / when, after devouring
my burger / my face messy
with sauce, I would not / share
my fries.
I Once Thought
I could be happy
in pieces, living a hundred lives,
each a stranger to the others.
If I made my selves
small enough, maybe I could fit
each shameful crumb into a box—
one for family
one for church
one for friends
one for me
just me.
Neat and tidy.
How easy it is
to tuck your self away,
to become a lonely house
of private rooms
whose corners the sun
could never reach.
About the Author:
Grace is a settler living in Ontario on the traditional and Treaty territory of the Anishinabek people, now known as the Chippewa Tri-Council comprised of the Beausoleil, Rama, and Georgina Island First Nations. Her debut collection of poetry, The Language We Were Never Taught to Speak, is published by Guernica Editions and a Lambda Award finalist. Her work can be found in Grain Magazine, Contemporary Verse 2, Arc Poetry, and elsewhere.
*Featured image by Goran Tomic
Isele Magazine 