Here’s another poem by Sherman Alexie for this third Friday of Native American Heritage Month.
From Grief Calls Us to the Things of This World
by Sherman Alexie
The morning air is all awash with angels . . .
- Richard Wilbur
The eyes open to a blue telephone
In the bathroom of this five-star hotel.
I wonder whom I should call? A plumber,
Proctologist, urologist, or priest?
Who is most among us and most deserves
The first call? I choose my father because
He's astounded by bathroom telephones.
I dial home. My mother answers. "Hey, Ma,
I say, "Can I talk to Poppa?" She gasps,
And then I remember that my father
Has been dead for nearly a year.
You can read the rest of the poem here.
Visit the official site of Sherman Alexie.
Here’s a link to my I heart Sherman Alexie post at Blue Rose Girls last Friday.
Here’s a link to my Wild Rose Reader post Native American Heritage Month: Book Lists & Resources.
At Wild Rose Reader, I have a review of the poetry anthology The Sun in Me: Poems about the Planet.
Yat-Yee Chong has the Poetry Friday Roundup this week.