Digital Smoke Signals
by Odin Roark
Yesterdays keep pushing todays into tomorrows,
Yet history’s boyhood games
Remain in limbo with sand paintings
Holding imagination delicate
In earth colors eternal.
From past days shared by ancient shamans,
Now but museum daguerreotype photos,
The smell of clay oven bread,
Sage smoke healing,
The hunt’s curing for winter survival,
All remain layers unvanquished by wind and rain
Such make-believe streaming from
Small fists of dust in blood red and granite gray
Images taught by great grandfather,
Remain cherished lessons from
Yesteryear’s shared trust with nature.
I’m told the press and TV cameras are waiting
Casino jackpots will be especially loose for the inaugural night
After all it’s not everyday a tribe can open their fifth strip mall
As I stare at the fawn atop the hill behind
Father says I need to cut the ribbon soon
© Copyright 2016 Odin Roark. All rights reserved.
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