rattle of seeds
and shards of bone
above the voices
above the flames
the wordshaker
speaks
in the feather quiet
smoke is a story
told to the clouds
the wood is on fire
with the telling
the river is a story
told to the sea
the rapids are tongues
of frenzy
the rock is a story
the wind and the stars
the hoof of a deer
leaves a story in the moss
and the snake
sheds its story in the grass
the beaver slaps an ending
dives and disappears
but the ripples tell where it was
stories are circles of remembering
stories are eyes and ears
and voice
a rattle
in the throat of living
rattle of seeds
and shards of bone
above the voices
above the flames
the wordshaker
speaks
in the feather quiet
Rae Crossman
Published in Descant, Issue 88