Miscellaneous
- Forum
- Resources
- Contact Us
- Creativity and Writing Blog
- Living Psychic Blog
- Site Map
- Home

SAS-NOS-TEES MESA

By Mary O'Gara

In my back yard, 

Shiprock Tse’Bit’a’i’, the winged rock

Kept watch over mesas and valleys

Where sheep followed goats all day

And I walked at night

When the snakes were asleep

And watched Anasazi long dead

March their lights down the mesa.

At sunrise I climbed a chimney,

Stepped over the Navajo-Ute war wall

And looked down where there was no path

Except at night

For the Old Ones.

May 1, 1996
Copyright ©Mary O'Gara

MEMORIES OF A BURNING

By Mary O'Gara

She beckons

Eyes flashing hand pointing

The way the path

Through mist like smoky veils

Faces hands nameless hands

Lift fire to the wood at my feet

Dry wood flames catch

Lick wool underskirts

Wet from a winter in witch cells

My feet are warm again

As close to their heaven as I am like to get

And it wasn't the fire killed me

That time

Just the smoke.

 

May 1, 1996

Copyright Mary O'Gara