Downstream of The Bear Dance

They talked of music, Janis Joplin and Hendrix.
They talked of Nam and the hippies near the res.
They hid from her camera and she communed with a morning beer.

Looking up at the foothills
lost among the shavings
With the banned Utes.

Static buzz
hammer and nails
The creek was high.

Black cats
Black sheep
Black engines
Buried deep.

Stray dogs
Stray clouds
Drops of water off the fence pipe.
Riding this one out as one Ute's brother baked up in the mountains in hopes of visions.

Standing empty in our skin, we also waited.
It was noon and there were places to go.
Time became unglued as the day trembled.


Looking with glass vision
Raising a toast to his teeth
Chapo rose to acknowledge his reservation,
His failure, unfed.

Her mind walked off.
These were days of repair.
The car was fixed now and her life was busy mending.
Her father had finally come around to meeting her after knowing of her existence for five years.

“Good bye.”
“Never say goodbye” says Chapo, say “See you later.”


© Sonja J. Johnston 12-Feb-2014