Qu’Appelle, circa 2009
Who calls?
No romantic figure heroically paddles there now.
There’s always an end to this journey,
Always an end of the trail.
poetry then loved the Indian dead
the pastoral gently painted us out
for the sake, in the name of beauty
we die or we disappear
extinguishment by the canon
can take seven generations
seven generations to get to this place…
wintering ground
harvesting common
fishing station
hay flats and picket stands
cottage lots and land claims
time enough to silence the spirits that lived
within our sacred stories
long enough that we can say their names for pay
WE ARE the ones who once belonged to this land,
Had heard the voices of the spirits and listened to their laws.
Lived upon our mother so that future generations could survive
And kept the stories that told us how to stay alive.
Lynn Acoose, 2009




just makes me happy by looking at it beacause it’s so perrety and also colourful!
really nice !
it fits the senery, I was born there,is it possible to send my email to Lynne