Lee Maracle, poems (6)

Sister

I die a little to think we could never be
two sisters in love with life
sharing the same dream
one clean, sweet vision of freedom

I die a little to think we let them
divide us, that we had not the love
to bind us

So helpless were we as small babies
no power,
no strenght to oppose the forces
keeping us apart

Naïve and inncocent the world fell upon us
ripped us from the same womb tearing asunder
the sacred bond of family

It did not come easy, with pain and torment
we faced a common enemy, disunited and spiteful
before sweet womanhood came upon us
we gave up

I would like to hold my sister
feel her warm embrace and touch her spirit
just one time



- - -

Rage

I scream my rage
at the pages of a book
that I might treat
people - humanly.