Potlatch Ducks
Sleek,
We sneak just so,
past the tall blades of grass
across the flats of Minto
Canoe glides with no sound
our paddles dipping water like
ancient spirits in dance
Ducks abundant
we’ll take plenty to the
village, but mother earth
urges play and off come our shirts
young man’s long hair flying
paddle high, woman’s long hair
laying, teasing the open sky
Heading on with
potlatch ducks to the village edge,
I can hardly breathe,
as if the ancient ones
are watching, and are about to
sneeze