the day the earth broke open
our braids untangled
our bodies shut down
‘cut down’ the trees they said
we'll sell all the lumber
we were not afforded the luxury of crumbling
we rebraided our hair
pinned it down tight this time
they could no longer undo it
‘cut down’ their power
put them into bite-size pieces
we can sell their parts
the day the earth broke open
we put away our comfort foods
and never found them again
‘cut down’ each strand
we can sell their stories
we were careful and loud
letting only the earth
reverb our sadness
we built whole lakes with our tears
we never made a sound
the day the earth broke open
my auntie put away her flair
she placed it in a box
titled it
‘survival’
she put herself in that box too
said ‘open me when it's safe’
it was never safe
we opened it anyway
… and when we did
it smelt of home
of the burnt taste fire leaves on your clothes
it was safety
a blanket sheltering us from the cold
the soothing sensation of a cup of cedar tea on winter days
it was big
bigger than the weight it carried
whole Nations gathered to hear the crackle in her voice
it was black and burnt and smokey
hints of maroon filled the air
the sweetest candy i’ve ever tasted
sage and tobacco
sweetgrass and cedar
dancing in the darkness of the flame
we danced too
found ourselves singing
put it back into the box
said ‘open me when you want to find home’
titled it ‘knowledge’
never closed it again
-Connor "Nimkiins" Lafortune