#fry

birdsong@diaspora.linuxlusers.com

#native #american #fry #bread

Indian Fry Bread

Down in the City, up in the night.
Eyes burning. I should go to sleep.
Eyes burning more from smoking cooking oil.
I opened a window.

There’s some peace and quite out there at last.
I made Indian Fry Bread.
It turned out perfect- in spite of my eary state.
I don’t have the all day and all night
peace and quiet of the Reservation,
but I have some Fry Bread and honey.
How long will there be honey?
How long before all the bees are killed?
I looked up “How To Build a Beehive.”
I would make a home for them.
They could come live with me.
I don’t have my silent, smiling companions
but I know they still exist and are sleeping
somewhere under a dark, beautiful, endless sky.
I’ll listen to an Indian lullaby now, and go to sleep
.