poetry

McKinley Park Sit Spot

McKinley Park Sit Spot

beneath a net of emerald leaves
riding a raft of restless wind
back to earth
brow to sky
I’m home

poetry

Cedar at the sit spot

Cedar at the sit spot

sometimes when I’m sitting quietly
waiting for nothing
he comes
it’s the sweetest sort of communion
Tous neyei3eibeihii*
he says to the tree that shelters us
and we sit together
contemplating the creek
the woods
the snow
and mostly the gift
of another soul
who knows how to be
silent still attentive and grateful
he magnifies my joy

* “Hello, teacher” in Arapaho/Hinóno’éí