Hour 2: WE SURVIVE

Ten years ago, yes, I was five years old.
Ten years ago, with hair like wine, she told
Me that she loved me. And ten years ago
My heart shattered in a half moon’s  cold glow.

A decade back I broke my neck to make
A dime. A dream is something you can take
Too far. Ten years ago my father passed
Away. And then my mother. And I asked

Myself how much I looked like them, or how
Much I wanted to. It’s hard to shed now
The decades I have pulled behind me. And
Ten years ago I’ll be breathing sand.

Philosophers and gods brocade our lives,
While decade after decade we survive.

3 thoughts on “Hour 2: WE SURVIVE

  1. Thank you so much for this poem. This line: “And I asked/Myself how much I looked like them, or how
    Much I wanted to,” resonated very deeply with me. Reminded me of when my mother passed and I cut my long, long hair (our Indigenous custom) and all I could see was her face as my hair grew out again.
    This piece is deeply beautiful and haunting. “Philosophers and gods brocade our lives,
    While decade after decade we survive,” this, too a reminder that we go on – in the face of all that tries to destroy us. Chi miigwech (thank you) for this piece!

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