wail of the ancients

Wail of the ancients

across the snake find the

camas eaters

            high upon the camas prairie

    and before them winter the shoshone

                    and paiute

                            and bannock

                in the lava sinks of the snake river plain

haaa

        first man

                            eater of deer meat and salmon and

                                                        buffalo

                                i see your moccasin trail along

                                the steep rocky walls of the snake river canyon

and into the pahsimeroi valley

where i remember my earliest days

                                as a child in a log cabin

                and heard the long dreadful wail

            of itsiyiyi the coyote

                                ring from the valley floor and into the hills

            with the wail of the lemhi and nezperce

            with tendoy and joseph and toohoolhoolzoot

                                and sarpsis ilppilp

                        watching the mad waters of the clearwater

    disappear into the mountains

                        where the lodges of the couer d'alene and kootenai

                                        and nimipu stood

                                         and south the bannock spear salmon and hunt buffalo

                    and over the bitterroot

                    the flathead and crow

                    the blackfeet, piegan, blood and sioux

                    eat buffalo livers

aieeeeeee

            the caves of clay

                        where ancient potters

                                    stooped and walked into the

                                                lava crust of the earth

                                    and littered the entrance with

                            split bones and obsidian

                and built their lodges in the sink

to the northwest

where the winter lodge rings are still in evidence

                                        full of sage and tumbleweeds

only 500 paces from the old airplane beacon

where my father slept his first night

in idaho

                                                    butzbach germany 1965

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