A Cantor’s Blues –

for Silent Bear

Sing to the multitude dark and hidden melodies

surging Scions breaking here our bread

we lift or lilt in our present incarnation

to see you in Mississippi mudflats

counting the beat on dirt roads and dry

grasses your head held high Nightwalking

with Coyotes and Ghosts in

the Valley of the Grandfathers you

blow the whistle and chant the tune

as we drum rhythms under Stars

that Gyrate with their Own succinct

Ovation --