Every damned thing matters
As does everything that’s blessed.
All our ancestors are in the gut together.
Something larger than this whole island
Is breathing. Tradewinds fly past this house
Stirring up ginger and plumeria.
The music’s about to start down
By the water, and young herds
Intoxicated with longing as they apply lipstick
Or aftershave for the evening, shine.
I can hear some teetering feedback, and
The “check one, check two”.
I was there once: the baby in the mirror
Or the last one down at closing time.
Tonight I’m so far from where I’ve been
I don’t know where I’m going.
So urgent, new and slick we were, every one of us
As we emerged from
The fierce and crazy story.
c Joy Harjo 1/06 Honolulu
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