for Mida
my mind reels
to
think the world goes on
and you have fallen out of it
I
hope there are many
companions to speak Kaska to
where you have gone
my heart aches remembering
all the times we went
into the bush
looking for medicine
talking about the land
remembering times long ago
we laughed like girls
delighting in being out
on the land together
walking trails of the past
of the present
dreams of girlhood
Auntie Minnie–
cranberries
mistsà standing up
in the wild rhubarb
giving us a hard stare
your orange garbage bag rain
coat
rifle slung on your back
as
we walked up through the alpine
on Jade mountain looking
for tangles of brown caribou
horn
I remember burning wolverine’s
packsack
to bring the sky down
fires were burning up the land
too many years have gone by
my
academic career
the
rest of your days
now– empty
a dull ache I
cannot shake
I’ll never sit in your bright
quiet living room watching you sew–
bright beads, patterns of
flowers
and stars, endless
font of colours and patterns
spangling piles of uppers
empty– and still I cannot
cry
Mida Donnessey, my Elder, mentor, friend, teacher, passed away at 90 on December 8. I first met Mida and went out on the land with her in September 1997.
