from Crow or Eagle
I was an astronaut for the lord.
I tended field for the lord.
I drove truck for the lord.
Ran through fields of blooming lavender
in a dress my mother sewed in bad light.
I mined ore for the lord.
I sang. How my voice did rise up.
It rose up and pierced the lord’s ears.
My boyfriend tore this down.
Closed the door. Folded up my bed.
The ears of the lord did love my song.
Did learn it. I know this: he will sing
the words of my song back to me.
My father spoke through his teeth, his fingers
curled in a fist. I curled up, blackened.
In the hereafter in the hereafter we will sing.
Blue-green light bruising down.
Paula Cisewski and Rauan Klassnik
