Autumn Threnody

By Terry Freeman

Oct. 11, 2001

The lost are mourned by Zephyr moans
Lilting sounds that once did float
While ravens picked at fields of bones
Their laughing voices stilled in their throats

Lilting sounds that once did float
Through cedar branches, feelings riven
Their laughing voices stilled in their throats
The People from their land were driven

Through cedar branches, feelings riven
Trees darkly whispered tales of grace
The People from their land were driven
Now clouds bewitch the Moon's pale face

Copyright © 2001 Terry Freeman

This is my contribution in the "Pantoum" format which I found very difficult to write but a lot of fun to read. The first three drafts were written with a Stipula Etruria Amber, while the final edit was re-written with a flexy WWII-era Waterman's celluloid stub. This version was typed in my newsreader.

The tense change that takes place in stanzas two and seems awkward, but it is intentional and necessary to give the sense of looking back through time to see the Native Americans and witness their fate, then returning to the present. The wind and the cedar branches represent both nature and the cedar flutes that the Plains Indians used for courtship and communion with the spirits of nature, and the moon represents eternity since the moon we see now is essentially the same that the first Indians look upon and dreamed about.

This whole piece is loosely based on a daydream I had while playing the flute in an area near where I live that once was a thriving center of trade for many nearby tribes. This made it both very easy and very difficult to write, and I hope I haven't spoiled it by adding these bits of explanation. I think the poem can stand well on its own and pray that those who read it share a bit of my sadness.

Mitakuye Oyasin,

Terry