for Klavdiya Plotnikova

for Klavdiya Plotnikova

your native tongue

approached extinction

yet ardent

for the running juice of red berries

when whispered over withered herbs

hushed for the hollow petals

held for healing

you were the last living

earthbound soul

to speak Kamas;

charting a quarter century

within the intricate loneliness

of soliloquy

tucking yourself into silence

you became earth

with you went

the steely winter fire smoke

first snow bent to fox prints

the defiant dance of the grey hare

the lodging of the spruce

the grunt of reindeer calls

the answer of the words given to the forest

the butter of summer

on your tongue no more

all this beneath and below;

delicate chatter

for your homeward bow