I must admit, when I moved to NM with my Lakota friend to left Pineridge for a meeting in AZ, then came to hang with me in LA, while I packed up to move us to NM, my intro to Native Culture indicated Plains tribes love to travel. Visiting relatives, pow wows, meetings, going the gardens, just get out on the road and go. On the reserves similar travels just not quite so often or quite so far. It was always a riot collecting gas money, and a place to crash from point A to point B. I'd guess it's the night sky on the road that keeps the wheels turning:-)
THIS poem will be used in connection with teaching The Absolutely Treu . . . .. High school students near the border. Your work is appreciated and will be circulated. Hope the bird flies to your outstretched palm soon.
Sherman--Officially I'm not on substack right now--not sposed to be on-line at all but can't resist your posts-- This is my Indian Pirates Of Stone County Road... and its awesome with what, for me, is a tidal wave ending. Yakoke Your posts make me wish I was a writer. :-)
I came back to listen/read again several times today. And again. OK and once more, late this evening.
Because...
I love that dilapidated rowboat...
Because...
I love that you kept rowing toward what you had never seen...
and I love what this poem taught me about the dreams we keep hold of, the way we never really forget our true selves, who we were, are, and still want to be.
"Some of us want
to navigate the earth."
This poem is timeless, Sherman. Sweet with something I want to cling onto tonight.
"The scent of salt" has always suggested adventure to me too, having grown up in the Canadian prairies and North Dakota and only experienced the ocean when I was 17 (an impressionable age :-).
Sublime and mysterious, rowing that bent and busted boat. The strange and dark harbor with its stranger fires. A story that needed to be told. Grateful to be a witness, listening.
I had never considered that some people might think other people don't want to travel.
I'm an introvert. But I love to experience other places and peoples. I've wandered as far as Europe and SE Asia. West Coast USA to East Coast and points in between.
I've traveled through many states. Mental states included.
I must admit, when I moved to NM with my Lakota friend to left Pineridge for a meeting in AZ, then came to hang with me in LA, while I packed up to move us to NM, my intro to Native Culture indicated Plains tribes love to travel. Visiting relatives, pow wows, meetings, going the gardens, just get out on the road and go. On the reserves similar travels just not quite so often or quite so far. It was always a riot collecting gas money, and a place to crash from point A to point B. I'd guess it's the night sky on the road that keeps the wheels turning:-)
THIS poem will be used in connection with teaching The Absolutely Treu . . . .. High school students near the border. Your work is appreciated and will be circulated. Hope the bird flies to your outstretched palm soon.
Thank you, Caren!
This is so beautiful. I love it.
Thank you, Deb.
Sherman--Officially I'm not on substack right now--not sposed to be on-line at all but can't resist your posts-- This is my Indian Pirates Of Stone County Road... and its awesome with what, for me, is a tidal wave ending. Yakoke Your posts make me wish I was a writer. :-)
Thank you, James.
Yeah man, scoot over and hand me a paddle! Let those canoes by the shore. Thanks Sherman, and for the intro as well.
Thanks! Here's to the canoes!
It was a fun journey reading that poem.
Ah, I love the pun. Thanks, Rachel.
I came back to listen/read again several times today. And again. OK and once more, late this evening.
Because...
I love that dilapidated rowboat...
Because...
I love that you kept rowing toward what you had never seen...
and I love what this poem taught me about the dreams we keep hold of, the way we never really forget our true selves, who we were, are, and still want to be.
"Some of us want
to navigate the earth."
This poem is timeless, Sherman. Sweet with something I want to cling onto tonight.
Thank you...
Thank you for those very kind words. I think, sometimes, we find new rowboats. I'm in a new one now rowing toward another strange shore.
oh.
Is that "oh" as in "emotional reaction" or "oh" as in "meh"? Ha!
the former, of course. Sometimes your words take my breath away and therefore the ability to speak in words.
Thanks!
"The scent of salt" has always suggested adventure to me too, having grown up in the Canadian prairies and North Dakota and only experienced the ocean when I was 17 (an impressionable age :-).
I love this. Thank you.
Thank you, Barbara. Yes, that first scent of salt is quite wonderful and challenging.
I can always see the people in your poems so clearly.
Thanks, Blake. Your book from Girl Noise has arrived on these shores.
such excitement, that thirst for adventure is in all of us.
Thank you, Weston.
Sublime and mysterious, rowing that bent and busted boat. The strange and dark harbor with its stranger fires. A story that needed to be told. Grateful to be a witness, listening.
Thank you, Amanda.
Mesmerizing - beautiful to hear it read by you. And again I love your introduction. One gold nugget leads to another.
Thank you, Leigh! Here's to the relics and talismans.
🌾🔥🌾
Great use of emojis! Thank you.
Thanks 🥰
This gave me chills, Sherman!
Thank you, Christina.
I had never considered that some people might think other people don't want to travel.
I'm an introvert. But I love to experience other places and peoples. I've wandered as far as Europe and SE Asia. West Coast USA to East Coast and points in between.
I've traveled through many states. Mental states included.
I grew up in small towns so I know the people were eagerly leave and the people who happily stay.
I grew up everywhere. Los Angeles, Hamburg, Texas, Montana, back to Cali, neck to Texas, now Rochester, NY.
I'm definitely a traveler!
Traveler, indeed!