Friday, December 08, 2006

WIAO P-20; ITD-8, Indigenous Directions

This is what we have established. I was walking in the dunes. I was thinking about that thing called love. I was on the lookout for some signs.

There’s one dune in the midst of all the dunes that I only know as the greatest dune. From the top of that dune you can look at the world in all its four directions.

To the south is the mouth of Ipswich River, the voice that emanates from all the lush surrounding mainland. Its speech is still a little flavored with the words of all the Agawam, the last indigenous inhabitants and rightful people of its shore.

To the west is all America. There’s nothing more that can be said.

To the north is Agamenticus, a mountain rising low in southern Maine. It’s said that there may rest the great remains of Passaconaway, the sachem of the Pennacook, a shaman and a magic gentleman.

And to the east is just Atlantic, where once the great white birds appeared from out its low and lengthy depthless sky.

That’s when the hawk flew by.

No comments: