Moonrise

Monday, November 5, 2007

Peskotomuhkati


"Malsom nqoss", he would say,

Just before a teaching,


Mall sum Nuh Kwoss,

"Wolf, my son",

And I would Learn.


All he had to say.

Of Spirits
Of Flesh
Of Blood


"Malsom nqoss"!

A shout as loud
As a whisper


Learn from me

Of Laughter
Of Tears
Of Life


Before my Death.


His voice,
His very Breath,
Stolen in a woods not his own.


Fighting the Whites again

Like his Grandfathers

Helmets with spikes of steel.


"They called us

Teufel Hunden!"

As we left our trenches
They ran as mahtoqehs


Fitting, thought I.....

"Mah toe kwez"
Rabbits from the Wolves.

Lintu Nipawset, Malsom nqoss,


For their Souls
For my Soul
Before I die.


"Leen too Nee pow set"
Sing the Moon, Wolf my Son

I do Grandfather,

I do.........


2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Saw a book the other day on Tuefel Hunden . . thought of the Wollf -- Frau M

Howlsatmoon said...

Yup, and who'd a thunk it....the Wollf is back in the game.....

I kinda figured You wouldn't have to look it up, heh.

Der Wollf Ist der Teufel Hunden, ja? Ist nicht fer getouchen yettin, do.

Ok, I made that last sentence up, kinda Germinglisch.

Teufel Hunden = Devil Dog
Wollf