remembering Mida

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

mistsí 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.