Into the Raw Collection (2005)

Native girl gone

February swallowed you
(or maybe it was the barbarians of Eskasoni)
No trace.
Gone.
Just gone.


A sweet girl Child.
Gone.
Mi’kmaq eyes Native hair.
Gone.
The Red ball cap.
Gone.


The Nor’ Easter wind cried
Where is my girl?
O where has my little girl gone?


December unearthed you.
Remains. Silent.
Tucked in. Still.
In the fallen autumn.


A sweet girl Child.
Found.
Mi’kmaq eyes Native hair.
Found.
The Red ball cap.
Found.

Broken. Still. Beautiful.


The December wind whispers
Sleep now, sweet Terrilynne,
Sleep now.
You have been found.


What were the last words you spoke?
I bet the barbarians of Eskasoni know.