For Linda- if she remembers, she will know why..

NEZ PERCE WOMAN

Now, I am an old woman- but do you think I have forgotten?
Do you think I would ever forget?
One does not forget the desolation of hopelessness.
One does not forget how the taste of doom rests on the tongue
And fills the throat, leaving no room to breathe.

Do you think I could ever forget?
How the warriors fought them and danced,
believing (no, hoping) “This is the last battle”;
How we looked in each other’s eyes and saw the quiet desperation
as the soldiers came again,
in greater numbers, pursuing…
always pursuing.

Do you think I could ever forget?
The terrible fear,
The blinding terror as the bullets sang victory songs over our heads
And the cannons beat a rhythm against our future…
How I grasped wildly at thoughts which had scattered at the first cannon blast,
Leaving me mindless for a fleeting moment-
Until I put my fears to foot and ran anywhere…
Anywhere…
Where?

Do you think I could ever forget?
How many died in our flight to freedom?
The foretaste of doom?
The end of living?
And those final, quiet words from a weary man,
Who had reached for a dream
Only to have it become a nightmare-
Aiee, those words, those awful words lying cold and heavy in our hearts
When that man,
So wise and weary,
Stood in the biting wind to face his betrayers
And had his spirit torn from his soul:
“Hear me, my chiefs! I am tired. My heart is sick and sad.
From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever.”

Ah, Hin-mah-too-yah-lat-kekt, stand proud again.
Even the oceans give way to time.

© 1976 Eschate