rosehip & sagewort, on the rocks at tthe yanlin ('water flowing through the rocks'), southern tutchone country, yukon, sept. 29/07
three days before her death
my baba spoke her last;
she sang after me,
repeating the words of a
folk song i was coaxing out
of her, trying to see if she
remembered, if she still
flickered beneath the slow
breathing & candle-ash sighs –
the erosion of english
had left her old tongue
emerging on the surface, like
the colours on a pysanka
after the wax slowly melts
away –
o kazalo divchatko
moje holubiatko!
her head on the pillow,
& she was smiling.
how the softest needles
embroidered those words,
the timbre of her voice
cross-stitched across a pillowcase
into my head –
scho virno kokhaje mene!
how she is still singing
those words now, over and over
& maybe
this can finally let us all
rest.
3 comments:
please may i post this on my blog? it is ...
I'm in Haiti right now, and there is a flood killing people, and some fear the culture and language are being lost, and this was what I needed to read.
Thank you.
Val
yes, of course you can post... i am glad you like it.
there is also 'comfort language part one', i think i posted it in august... i wrote it when i was up in alaska.
i did not know you were in haiti again...! i send many well-wishes & prayers & love. take care!
love, jenanne.
allo jenanne!
i miss your blog-posts... i keep stopping by to check for new photos, etc. will you post again soon? i hope so!
b.
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