Here lies Raven, who has been pine-needle and lover and thief and king who stole the sun to give it to the world. may he be better remembered in the spice of rotting leaves and the ever-dripping trees than in the injustice a silent foreign tongue can do him. Fondly remembered Coyote who taught us to sing and gave his name to the green that clings to every branch the day he fell from the sky He died that day too, But this time, We bury him I met a woman who told us stories In a language that scattered the embers of her heritage because she knew she said that a little memory is better than none and that a people, captured in photographs and phonographs, and history flattened between pages until the final graph reads “Native Speakers: zero� is better than no people at all
Spring 2010
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