Deltina Hay

Vulture in His Longhouse

psadmin — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 03:06:51 +0000

vulture spreads his wings to the sun
in thanks for this day
for this day the earth was good to him
vulture in his long house
dancing the stories of yesterday
in the masks of men
drumming and chanting
of how man swallowed the sun
(and raven smiles)
how there is no more than this
more comes at too high a cost
(raven stole the sun playing on such faults of men)
vulture in his long house
dancing the stories of today
how he sat very still for the longest time near a man and did not scare it away

Judgments

psadmin — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 13:15:08 +0000

our judgments
are often timely
as though clinging
to that dusky moment of the day
when it seems impossible to discern
whether our own headlights are on
but glaringly obvious that everyone else’s are

pitching fish

psadmin — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 07:03:29 +0000

they bounced the pretty ones on their knees
but she was lanky
with freckles
ratted hair
and bare feet
calloused and filthy
and she liked it that way
liked not to be noticed
alone in a world she made up as she went
hopping from rock to rock on the rugged shore

waves crashed and sprayed
sea water dries tight on your skin
she thinks
and jelly fish burn
and they reel in their nets in the distance
squeeze out the jelly fish with thick rubber gloves
sea water drying tight on the wooden decks

she reaches a sandy strip of beach
the sand warm on her feet
slips between her toes
a old eagle eyes her from atop a piling
she smiles at him
and quickly looks away
whispers a greeting
(more of a hum)
she knows that to ignore him
is the best way to keep him close

the rhythmic moan of a Tender’s diesel engine draws near
it is time for them to pitch their fish
she climbs a piling to the top of a long ship dock
runs to the end for a better look
the hi-liners will pitch last
she thinks
they like to watch the others pitch
so they know how much they have beaten them
they will drift just out of line most of the morning
to gloat
she is pleased to see one of the old wooden boats
drifting alongside the usual decked out hi-liners this week

she sits at the end of the dock
and counts
they pitch in order of value
pinks first, followed by dogs
then silver or chum, depending on the season
but always the lovely Sockeye last
the prize of fish - even more than the King
rich, red, oily meat - perfect for smoking

the catch was not as good as last week’s
but good enough for them to be handing out
black cherry sodas and red licorice whips
and she won’t even have to sit on their knees to get some