Today Pegman took us to Poisson-Blanc, Quebec. I scrolled around and found a man holding a half-fish! This is what happened next.
Long ago our sons,
tangles of muscle, brain
laughter and kindness
used two-foot long arrows
to fell stags with antlers
large enough to support
every wall of our homes
Our daughters
slim, strong
and
more beautiful than a
single
crimson
rose
hooked fish as long as their arms
Then you came
with armies and inventions
and words that meant
everything
everything
everything
before they simply meant nothing at all
You gave us
automobiles, planes
and power plants powered by poison
while we shared our bounty
and welcomed you into our homes
Look what happened
Look!
Now!
and, finally, look again
With every landslide
earthquake and change of tide
we
the original people
pay the consequences while
you
the intruder
move on
with a bag full of a thousand empty promises
Up From the Ashes 
A hauntingly brilliant take on the prompt.
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Wow!!!! Thanks.
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You’re welcome.
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Nice one! I can see developers and so on, eager for a quick buck, crashing through the place, beguiling the native people with their modern ways and finally leaving again having changed the place forever (and not in a good way).
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Yep. And history marches on in the same worn out footsteps. Thanks, Ali.
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Happens so often everywhere, using up the resources all around, displacing ‘original’ people (nice phrase BTW), poisoning waterways. Sad look out for us all. Well done Alicia
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I’m afraid mankind will never change. Thanks, Lynn
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My pleasure 🙂
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We are prisoners of language. We call these people “developers,” as though the natural land is in need of improvement by their valiant efforts. They don’t develop anything; they merely destroy what is already there and sell what they build. The corrosive idea that making profit is a moral right of every individual will destroy all our lives. You see this in Houston with its strategy of unrestricted growth (a philosophy shared by cancer cells). This is an excellent poem that shows the pain and helplessness we feel as we stand on the sidelines watching these people do this. Nicely done.
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I think what’s happening in Houston, plus a YA novel I’m reading right now, brought this story to fruition. Thanks for such a thoughtful reply.
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Miigwetche, Alicia. Thank you. this is a strong and powerful medicine you have written. Aho! Hokei! (Amen! It is a good day to die!) Very well written, indeed!
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What a wonderful comment, Jeli. I truly appreciate it.
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This poem is terrific. I love it.
“words that meant
everything
everything
everything
before they simply meant nothing at all”
Fantastically powerful use of repetition before denial.
Your words stirred a deep anger in me against those who have cheated native Americans, and in doing so have wrecked our environment.
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Thank you. While trying to cut this from 172 words to 150 I almost got rid of the repetition. I’m so glad it worked for you. Alicia
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A true though painful reminder of what havoc we have inflicted upon Nature.
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Yes and it makes my blood boil.
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So true and so sad. A beautiful poem.
That is an awfully big bite of an awfully big fish.
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Kind of crazy looking, yes?
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I’ve just re-read your poem. And re-read it a second time. It is really, really good.
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How wonderful of you to say so. Thanks.
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What a poignant piece, Alicia. Poetry in motion. I am not a developer, or given to making promises I am unable to keep, but I was made to feel guilty. The majority of our minority are so wasteful.
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They truly are. I do my best to recycle and reuse our gray water, but when I went to a class at our local library on zero waste in June and the young woman giving the class had a tiny jar full of the only things she was actually throwing away for all of 2017, I realized I wasn’t doing enough. Thanks for reading.
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Thank you for doing your bit for our environment.
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I’ve been exploring a similar theme, both in a couple of my flash fiction pieces, and in my primary time travel series. Well done.
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Very cool, James. It’s an interesting subject.
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Dear Lish,
Stunning poem. I can’t add much to what’s already been said. So much truth. Well written.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thank you, Rochelle. As I’ve said before, I really don’t think of myself as a poet so when other’s do, I’m flattered.
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This was a beautiful poem and the stanza that begins with, “Then you came
with armies…” brings both a power and profound sadness to the piece. I read it imagining the the anger and the power leaving the soul of the narrator with each repetition of the word “everything” until there was nothing left of him. What we did to the native population in the US should be something we’re reminded of all the time.
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What a lovely comment. Thank you so very much.
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I really liked this one, Alicia. I fear we’re doomed to destroy our own habitat.
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Thank you. I’ve received so many encouraging comments about this piece I’m “going brave” and submitting it for possible publication in a locally published book. Fingers crossed.
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