A Poem for the Missing and Murdered Aboriginal Women and Children

Updated: May 17

The Missing

Mother seats looking at the screen,

refraction hat says nothing.

Just an opacity of images

seemingly move like smoke.

Mother seats guarding your name in the blooming births of the moon-

When night creeps in she tucks it,

Wraps it in the waves shouting it to the winds,

Have they forgotten you?

The next morning,

Pain comes back and helps itself to a slice of your favorite breakfast.

In the kitchen,

the clock is ticking your name, but Justice awaits.

The needles articulate sacred songs to obliterate impunity.

Mother feeds them with spirit food.

The raven guards a mirror between his wings

with the reflection of your soul

and the children you won’t bare,

Have they forgotten you?

Mother seats with the name of all the missing carved in her chest,

Melting time into the needles, she knits and knits a sacred blanket for Justice.

Her orality covered by snowflakes shouts at the compass,

The cardinal points answer with the echo of Silence.

Beyond the morning news she sees the Orcas have returned again.

Vestiges of your name traveled on their backs.

The screen doesn’t name you yet.

Mother waits sitting on the hour of yet another interminable number twelve.

©Lidice Megla

(This poem appeared in the 2018 LIV Congress of the Canadian Association of Hispanists, Regina, SK.)


 

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