Moving Slowly Through The Stars

A pair of Native American poets today.

Winter Evening
by Chrystos

in the northern mountains
Moon is a silver turtle
moving slowly through the stars

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excerpt from Perhaps the World Ends Here
by Joy Harjo

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.

It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.

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Links:
An anthology of 20th century Native American poetry and a collection that mixes traditional with modern
A Native American poetry workshop lesson plan
There is Nothing Like an Idea by Nora Naranjo-Morse
My Mother and My Sisters by Simon Ortiz
'Twas the Night Before Ojibwe Christmas by Tara Prindle