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By LeRoy Grafe of the Institute of American Indian Arts
And one day she was sure she’d come to love her baby too. It was a bit of cosmic mercy in the midst of hell.
As the evening star appeared, the despair that she’d kept locked in a fist grip behind her moved in close, as if the tiny light had beckoned it forward.
All I knew was that I lost one of my best friends. Then, I cried hard, like a dam bursting.
Choking on ditch weed, riding the clutch, and cranking the Beatles, we were off with Geoff perched on top of his car roof.
After a time his anger and embarrassment turned to a melancholic blanket of regret. He now wanted to find relief from his actions more than an explanation for them.
I fly, silver wings above clouds,
tracking yesterday through winds
tuned to stellar frequency—
Coyote reminds us you need a little crazy;
And a laugh or two.
By Clinton Desiderio of Navajo Technical University
By Marcus Redwing of Nebraska Indian Community College