Published September 15th, 2024
by Lauren Kalstad
so many miles and generations away
from the far-flung prairies of Oklahoma
I was born in the shallow creek bed,
that bone moon glowing white as an eye
I spoke the language of mourning dove
tree frog, locust, and bobcat
and even with eyes the color of sky
skin like morning mist, my spirit grew wild
grass underfoot, blood thick with roses
I learned how to live with a storm in my heart
my aunt spins the tales of our people
from her throat each ghost is born
they grow electric like the redbud in spring
and she breathes these stories out like rivers
calling me home, we are Wolf Clan,
we protect our own – our family
and she lays the small wolf in my daughter's hands
waya, she coos gently, her voice filled with earth
Note on Community Membership
Lauren Kalstad: I'm a proud member of the Cherokee Nation, and feel very fortunate to have family in Tahlequah, Oklahoma that keep me tied to the community.
I've recently begun to reconnect with the heritage and history of my ancestors through research and visiting my aunt.
My great great great great grandfather was Chief John Ross who led the Trail of Tears from Southeast United States to the modern day Cherokee Territory in Tahlequah.
My aunt is Native American storyteller, Gayle Ross, and she has been irreplaceable as a touchstone to this piece of my ancestry.
About the Poet
Lauren Kalstad resides in Dallas, Texas, United States.
Read the poet's biography on Lauren Kalstad's Artist Page.
This poem is collected in Comet #3,
published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in First Nations Poetry Magazine:
Fusvhayv (Mockingbird)
by Deidra Suwanee Dees
First Nations Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
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- Visit the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
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