Archive Issue

Volume 2 Issue 2




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Tribal Fires Journal
Volume 2 Issue 2
Titled: Maple Sugar Woman

Contents
Reflections of a Reservation - Poetry
Untitled - Poetry
By Stacy R. Gardipee-Dueker

The Spiral of Relationship - Poetry
By Joe West

Hollow - Poetry
Treaty Talk - Poetry
Muy Amigo - Poetry
Crullers - Poetry
By A. Rodney Bobiwash

The Child Bride - Story Story
By Janice Command

Dance of Remembrance - Poetry
By Tammy Bailes

Moostoos - Short Story
By Don Lewis Lee Cardinal

Pause - Short Story
By Agnes Randolph

Ghigau’s Song - Poetry
By Raven Hail

Untitled - Poetry
By Kelly M. Worth

Mother’s Sugar Spoon - Short Story
By Anne M. Dunn

Maple Sugar Woman - Short Story
Seeing your image - Poetry
The Red Road: Plant’s & Bark - Cultural Preservation
By Cherylin Z. Martin-Wade

The Lost Warrior - Poetry
By Phil Duran

Pause

The old man wandered into the dim orb of the streetlight sweeping the pavement with watery and bloodshot eyes.  His hair was windblown and unkempt, his face gray and unshaven.  His whole aspect indicating a long affair with "Lady Grape".

The suit he wore if it could be called that, had long ago lost any semblance or respectability.  The jacket was shiny in places and much stained, short in back and long in front.  His pants were ballooned out at the knees, faded and streaked with old spills and with something else hinting at periods of incontinence.

He bent over and picked up an object from the sidewalk, perhaps it was for this he had been searching and straightening up he put the cigarette to his lips.  He began to systematically search each pocket of this clothes to determine if one contained the means of lighting his find although the spartan contents of all could have been ascertained with just a moment of mental inventory.

After finding and using the matches the old man inhaled deeply and threw back his head to survey the night sky.  He stood there for a few minutes smoking and looking up, then removed the butt from his lips, tore off the fire and placed the ragged cylinder into his pocket. He patted the pocket once as if to assure himself of the item's security and himself of a later reward, then the old man's body settled into it's memory mold and he shuffled off into the night.
***
Written by Agnes Randolph.
seeing your image

i  am tired
my eyes are hurting
i don't want to go to bed yet

i keep wondering about you
writing poems for you
in my heart
you don't know about them
i won't tell you
what i write
my words stay here with me
at  night i sleep with them
dream with them
sometimes you are in my dreams
feeling you close beside me
i don't like to be haunted

seeing your image
seeing your image
seeing your image
seeing your image

i am tired
of wanting you

seeing your image
***
Cherylin Z. Martin-Wade
 


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Archives
Tribal Fires Journal
Volume 1 Issue 1
Volume 1 Issue 2
Volume 1 Issue 3
Volume 1 Issue 4

Tribal Fires Journal
Volume 2 Issue 1
Volume 2 Issue 2
Volume 2 Issue 3
Volume 2 Issue 4

Tribal Fires Journal
Volume 3 Issue 1

Volume 3 Issue 2- Missing
Volume 3 Issue 3- Missing
Volume 3 Issue 4- Missing

Tribal Fires Journal
Volume 4 Issue 1 - Missing

Volume 4 Issue 2

Volume 4 Issue 3 - Missing

Volume 4 Issue 4

Tribal Fires Journal
Volume 5 Issue 1 - Missing
Volume 5 Issue 2
Volume 5 Issue 3
Volume 5 Issue 4

Tribal Fires Journal
Volume 6 Issue 1
Volume 6 Issue 2
Volume 6 Issue 3
Volume 6 Issue 4

Tribal Fires Journal
Volume 7 Issue 1


Tribal Fires Journal is currently open for submission of poetry, essay's and short stories for the coming Fall issue.

Please send copies of writings to:
Tribal Fires Journal | 4807 Onigum Marina Drive NW | Walker, MN 56484

Also include your tribal affiliation, and writer's profile.

 

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Updated: November 22, 2005