Upon reading the latest incarnation of my poems, I am com...
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Upon reading the latest incarnation of my poems, I am compelled to drive northward, back to my reservation to see how the poem echoes in that desert. I want to find a place where the red rocks will face the sun without looking away or squinting. Perhaps in a cornfield. Just someplace, I can feel connected again, to my roots if you will, to hear the blue birds rustle in the juniper trees, the coyotes howling in the distance under the clear blue night, sheep bells clanking and muted by wool in the
Upon reading the latest incarnation of my poems, I am compelled to drive northward, back to my reservation to see how the poem echoes in that desert. I want to find a place where the red rocks will face the sun without looking away or squinting. Perhaps in a cornfield. Just someplace, I can feel connected again, to my roots if you will, to hear the blue birds rustle in the juniper trees, the coyotes howling in the distance under the clear blue night, sheep bells clanking and muted by wool in the
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Sherwin Bitsui's Blog
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