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By John I. Blair

this one is about the
Lewis and Clark expedition and Sacagawea

Bright blazing sun
bakes warped boards
league on league
in pitiless heat.

Oars creak, splash,
churn muddy water;
hidden snags thump
battered pirogue hulls.

Dark ravens tear
at beached gars;
rotting fish stench
taints my nose.

The Captain’s man
hoards acrid brandy,
doles stale grits,
rancid deer meat.

Days I sketch
Mandan, Hidatsa lodges;
nights, loon cries
lull me asleep.

The girl, Birdwoman,
points upriver, murmurs:
"dohpaka, my people;
itamae, my own.

©2004 John I. Blair  

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Reader Comments

Name: Gloria MacKay Email:
Comment: Hi John#comma# I like this poem. Every word counts. Well done.



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