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 --