William Oandasan

My Old Times Ones
1

a valley ripe with acorns

and yellow poppies everywhere
as i stand here

dreaming of you

2

in chipped and tattered
weavings of a willow basket
the voice of an ancient age
dreaming of breath

3

in a chert arrowhead speckled with quartz
i have seen our grandfathers

along a stream east of the valley

lancing salmon and deer

4

swimming up the Eel

a spirit sings corn-
pound-the-old-way-draws-
the-milk-of-earth

5

from fresh currents of night air
above manzanitas near the cemetery
the words of ancient lips

turn in our blood again

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