The Same Wind, Light & Restless Rain

Thick mist rides
this sluggish river, suspending Rez
and white. We people
face each other, shoot
straight up like rabbits
and run. Our minds
ruffle and burn,
stop reasoning,
contending for the sun.

We live on land
long loved
and tended.
          The wind
still fans historic fires.

We crave the light, blue sky,
the clouds and shadow edges
we share, to see how cultures fit
together, define respect
and treat despair. To halt
the raging somersault
of violence and pain.

The same wind, light,
and restless rain
sustain us.
          Show me
the rain in your eyes.

The twisted language,
treaty lies, a froth
of winter
bitter on all sides.
Our hearts ache and wear,
our homes filled with fear,
a vulture at our bones.

We need to talk,
face forward, listen
to the tones.
          And breathe
each other’s air.

This Very Moment

In Javan jungle mist,
not far

from dappled waterholes,
a rhino mother

leans her weary head
upon her cherished young.

We speak this language,
have these stories
in our blood.

This very moment,
splash of sun from a leaf,

speaks to us,

of fleeting certainty.


Carol L. Deering has twice received the Wyoming Arts Council Poetry Fellowship (2016, judge Rebecca Foust; 1999, judge Agha Shahid Ali). Her poetry appears in online and traditional journals, and in the recent anthology Blood, Water, Wind & Stone: An Anthology of Wyoming Writers.

Mor from Carol: