entities (part 2)

These are the ones that stay with us, dawns of voices waking inside their secret language of journeying where the living and others traveling inside us are a movement of dreams tasting our breath as we waken….here are the fingerprints of rain on our windows watching us as we turn out of sleep into the world


© 2021 Lance Henson (poem-image)




A beaver slaps the water of a still creek

The unmarked graves where you

have lain for a hundred years


Awakening on the frozen back of a sleeping



Far from where

the demons reside

As the temperature drops to its knees

We watch from our hidden balcony

Inside a sheet of rain….


Men folding themselves into paper planes

That cannot fly….


From the stronghold

Badger song

December 8 20.

Now you have awakened

Now you have awakened
In another place

What will you sing in your sweet voice
The Cheyenne horses you are following
Taking you home….

Your form made of eternity and silent rain…


We carry you with us

You are a part
Of our belongings….

For my brother
John William West
Kit Fox Clan
Cheyenne Nation of Oklahoma



Scenting the small deepening in the leaves

Arrived from the lighted rivers

The haunted 

silent rivers



dying rivers….


Where at their banks winter prepares its messengers….


This is the day of absences

The day of singing….


Where the dead and the living


Are inside us….


Tsistsistas name for winter hawk

From the photo of my sister barbara bartlett

Who ainoh visited for two days in queens ny.

In here

In here the wind pushes against its memory
The dark trees listening

Where a psalm of witness hides….

Awakening in early morning

Something broken in the river
Where a lone bird
is singing

sound of an open hand moving across a
dusty brown table…

lonely words seeking shelter

While all the shelters are burning….

Autumn 20/20
from the stronghold

It rains…

It rains….inside the air that is folded toward it….it sounds its knowing making the streets glisten and the fields open their coats
and the birds listening for winter fly through it….

It rains deepening the leaves of autumn into
Their mirroring soft singing….

And what has fallen in the rain quiets the fields

Lowering its prayer

Into the earth….

Foggia ghetto


In this dreamless autumn
dark birds unknown to me form
Their ancient pattern toward some summer place

Found this small path and a prayer
Floating in a rain pool

Where the full moon will find it

And they will listen together

To the sorrow….

Psalm for us

On the Lesina plains
October 1 20