Bones
scattered:
finger bones missing,
teeth missing.
Stolen
by jewelery makers.
Sun shadows
dance on bones,
missing finger bones:
shapers of flutes,
makers of moccasins,

My tears
hide scattered bones.

Behind my back
a man whispers “Ridiculous!
Crying over sun splattered bones!”

Inside me,
old ones whisper,

“Blind one!
He cannot see
moccasin trails
across the skies.

Deaf one!
He cannot hear
spirit flutes
by the fire.

Sun splatters off scattered bones.

I weep.