Hershman John, jeune poète et enseignant, a publié un recueil I swallow turquoise for courage aux Presses de l’Université d’Arizona.
Grandmother Moon
Tonight is the lunar eclipse
Tonight the moon blooms
Tonight my grandma is home
The cornfield carpets the canyon’s basin
A Navajo field of colored corn
Red, Yellow, Blue, and White
Grandma Nalnishe whispers to the moon
Her turquoise jewels reflect the evening dinner fire
In the distance, the bells of the sheep ring
Overhead the moon begins to glow.
Tonight is the lunar eclipse
Tonight the moon blossoms
Tonight my grandma is home.
Every year, the Crow Fair brings her family back
She holds her sleeping grandchild
In the security of her camp, she sings
Grandma Black Eagle sings for the moon
And the booming drumbeats create the rhythm
The Little Bighorn river reflects the starlit sky
Through the trees the moon begins to glow.
Tonight is the lunar eclipse
Tonight the moon burns
Tonight my grandma is home.
A Hopi village rests quietly on a mesa
In a rectangular room, she whispers a prayer
As the candlelight shadows of the Kachinas dance on the wall
Grandma Honyumtewa prays for the moon
And a lone Kachina points out the window
On the roof top, an owl hoots « who? »
Out the window the begins to glow.
Tonight is the lunar eclipse
Tonight the moon bleeds
Tonight my grandma is home.
Relocated to a house in Oklahoma
She lost her Cherokee homeland
In her rocking chair, a tear drips off her cheek
Grandma Webb cries for the moon
While fanning herself with a beaded Eagle-feather fan
The air is sick as a loud car passes by
And over the buildings the moon begins to glow.
Tonight is the lunar eclipse
Tonight the moon beacons
Tonight all my grandmas are home
Tonight they all see Grandmother Moon
Tonight the moon glows deep like blood
Tonight the moon is Indian.
First published in Expedition, Vol. 37, #1, 1995.