Wolverine Poem

Still we see our brittle truths
Of conflict, fear and power
All across our land—and
The truths of possibility

Imagine glass and concrete
City landscapes—
Each rough line prolonging itself
Straight off into the gray horizon’s edge

Or a small log cabin tucked beside the
Sturgeon River—its twisting song
Rolls through clinging cedars and
Vigilant pines—spilling its coppered water turmoil
Into the mirrored blue of Burt Lake

When the quieted village seems asleep
Heavy—full of forgotten songs and dull dances,
Poems are read aloud to the stars
An offering by a woman who came again
To learn how to live
Whispering the truths of her own possibility.