Raven hovers above the bow
Duwamish natives paddle once placid waters long ago gouged by glaciers.
Jettisoned from their villages along Elliott Bay
They land ashore, once more,
Their homeland now a great seaport city, named after a long-dead chief
Bustling, teeming, loud, fast
Several generations now have passed.
Raven shaman, ghost-like, plies the currents in between,
Ebbs and flows from memory to dream.
The wake doesn’t have to drive the boat.
NOTES: This poem was inspired by a short documentary film that a friend had recently seen in Seattle, my own impressions of “The Emerald City” and the Puget Sound area, and a paraphrase of one of my favorite Wayne Dyer quotes. Happy Solstice!
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