SHOSHONI MOONS

I am Whispering Elk,
Shoshoni.

The land
grows dark with white men
like so many ants.

It is time
of green corn moon.

Their tribe grows: blue knives,
buffalo men, yellow hairs.

They speak many tongues,
break words.

Yellow corn moon
fills bellies.

They still come.

Days grow less
like buffalo
.
We see blood
on brown corn moon
looking through trees.

Their tribes grow.

I am Whispering Elk,
Shoshoni.

Our moons
grow few.

--Glen Enloe
(c) 2002
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