We Will Plant Songs Where There Were Curses

Cento of last lines from Joy Harjo.

Searchlights, C. R. W. Nevinson

 what do you make of it 
 a poem     another beginning 
 though the war never ended 
 every small struggle     there 
 all over again 
 it was a dance we followed 
 to the raw edge of the cliff
 a terrible music with our wise and ragged bones 
 we go on there     at the edge of the world laughing 
 wind blowing     centrifugal
 as we hold each other up     together 
 we have always been together 
 it is the whole earth 
 spinning so damned hard it hurts 
 we go on
 crazily     beautifully
 in the wind     in the rain 
 in the beautiful perfume and stink of the world ∎