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Autumn Leaves
volume 6 number 7
Autumn Leaves volume 6 number 7 |
Delusional deceivers
Pulling the wool over me again.
Myself, a mixed and cross blooded 3rd generation removed from tribal lands.
Ancestors calling through me nonetheless trying to steer me clear.
I don't always recognize their words while the wind moves me
and I see the hawk or deer and
even hear the fish as they try to whisper the
words.
The fish tried several times to tell me but I was baffled.
Shook my head and thought it was my
late night snack playing tricks on
me.
The deceptive one assured me that 'just like me,' he also
was a mixed blood who could pass and
explained his absolute whiteness
through some ancestral double-talk.
Taking a midnight stroll through the Allegheny Mountains in
the snow. I felt exhilarated and
happy; he panicked and shrieked that we
were lost.
Lost? Huh, we are right here, (I thought,) just follow the
trees to get back. He explained his panic
as an old war thing, (he'd never
served,
just another deception.)
Married. He was my husband and soon he lost his thin veneer of deception.
While in Ontario sleeping next to him in my tent, a woman
came up to me through the ground,
trying to warn me.
Finally the fish persisted and I could hear them. They said
that I am not like him, and didn't
belong. The water gushed and flowed.
The delusional deceptive one was merely fascinated with
Indians, his mother said. He'd always
been enchanted with them. Indian? No,
he is German, Austrian and Jewish.
Now he is gone, (we sent him along, we being me and my
family-even those not in this physical
reality.)
My trust is shattered for trusting myself.
Part of me wants to disappear.
Part of me wants to persevere.
Part of me learns to listen better.
