Through Night's Shadows

 

 

Grandmothers; Grandfathers,

their gnarled hands like ancient

trees, shaking seeds,

 

grieving

for their disappearing

memories.

 

Dancing, chanting...

As embers of the sacred fire

glowed,

 

they removed their moccasins,

held hands; then walked

toward their youth

 

through Night's shadows,

the bells on their empty moccasins

reflecting moonlight...

 

 

c. Douglas Fireman

 

 

Done