|
During the Night of the Vanishing Moon Red Wolf Slips a Knife into My Heart Stephen Gardner
During the night of the vanishing moon Red Wolf slips a knife into my heart, Then steals from my tipi and into the dark As I try to call, call revenge. But the words Cling to my tongue, no air to push them, And I take my first eagle feather, forever In a floating up; and I hear my silence Slice the wind; and from miles high I see Red Wolf in his tipi kneel down To his woman, taking her as I took her, His smooth face a wolf's grin burning In the dark, taking her back for good. |
Return to Spring 2007 Table of Contents