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