Night of the Swan

a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

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Bullet Train

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

There is a bullet train
speeding through our town,
our country,
with the letters CRISIS
written on it.

We cannot put
our arm out
to catch it,
or wrap our legs around it
to hold on to it.

With lightning fastness,
it is melting the ice
at the poles,
changing the seas forever.

It is ripping apart
the land around it
with drought, flood and wildfire,
diminishing wildlife and songbirds.

Like a giant spring,
loaded and set
to snap at our face,
it will take out
the whole eye of the world.

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Slipping Away

a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

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Heaven

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

Wolf moon
 with yellow-green eyes,
 slipping between trees,
 slipping from heaven.
  
 Timber wolf
 with yellow-green eyes,
 slipping between trees,
 slipping between exploding bullets-
  
 heaven slipping between
 our fingers. 

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In Memory of Juno

Poem and pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

 Dog
 The way you buried
 your nose in my hand
 made me unable to forget you
 that cold morning
 at daybreak.
  
 Skin and bones you were.
 Perhaps a boot to your neck,
 or starvation
 sent you fleeing to my gate,
 asking for help.
  
 So I let you in.
   

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By Alazanto, our son, Kevin Davis

Leo

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Our Winter

a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

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About Being Lost

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

 As a different species,
 you were there
 in the beginning,
 leading the toddler
 clinging to the long hairs
 on the ruff of your neck
 out of the vast corn field 
 and into the arms of frantic parents.
  
 Then, in midlife,
 you led us
 out of the western wilderness
 back to the road—
 how glad we were
 to find a way out.
  
 Now, in old age,
 you are disappearing
 from our lives—
 a little each day,
 as a new wilderness
 looms on our horizon.
  
 Who will lead us back 
 to the road now? 

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Article Appearing in Nine Wisconsin Newspapers

https://www.greenbaypressgazette.com/story/news/2021/01/28/sturgeon-bay-author-pens-book-poems-tribal-college-movement/4259575001/

This above article is about my newest book, Meditation on Ceremonies of Beginnings. John Looker wrote a great review of the book too:

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What Hope Is

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

I’ll tell you
 what hope is.
 It’s not going
 to the grocery store
 and getting yelled at 
 for bringing your
 screaming son along
 and then next week
 doing it again.
  
 It is breaking through
 the thick cloak that surrounds him
 and finding a small increment
 of communication,
 reaching down into
 the cylinder of autism
 and pulling out
 shafts of light. 

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