CREE MAIDEN poem

Cree Maiden

Not a scenic sight in
1967
when tourists
shouted eagerly as if it
was normal entertainment
to see a native lady
fighting the law
in Moosonee Ontario

holding up the
Polar Bear Express
brochures named the train
but going nowhere
this very moment
her hands tight around
railway steel

a muscled grip keeping two
OPP constables
sweating through tunics
while grappling with
firm fingers

train anxious with its horn
crowd in no hurry to depart
and I could hear
her huffing with each
push against her
shoulders and arms
burly uniforms unable to
unclench fingers
locked in an ancient battle.

I quietly cheered her
stubbornness
and raised my hand
in support of her success
delaying the train
and preventing these people
from returning to worlds
beyond her village
of canvas tents
and woe-begotten dreams.

I trembled in her defiance
of the White Man’s influence
and I too mouthed words
she was able to shout:
This is my land.
This is my land.

© 2008 Richard L. Provencher
All Rights Reserved

first published March 25, 2009
The Writer’s Block Issue # 2