Sibling Assignment #191:Swan Song and 52 Cups of Poetry

I gave the following assignment for this month:

"Write a tribute to a friend that is no longer with us."
You will find brother Bill's here and sister Carol's here.

I chose to write about a student rather than a friend. After the first year of teaching at Inchelium,
I was working with students in summer school when we got the news that one of our students had
been shot in a freak accident while the family was camping south of town. The student had just finished
third grade that spring. Her family and the reservation community was never the same.
I can remember attending her funeral and walking outside to see her laying in an open casket i
n the most beautiful dress. She looked like a precious doll. That haunted me long after the service.
When I worked with a poet as the writing project a few years later, she worked with me to get my
thoughts to paper. This poem also helps me reach my goal of writing 52 poems in 2018.

Swan Song
in memory of S.A. Swan
A Sacred Place On Lake Roosevelt
(1983-1995)

Don’t apologize for the day you allowed your sister to

mark in that brand new book,
Remember, I wanted you to take it home

and practice reading it to her.

Don’t apologize for the day your mother arrived

to visit your teachers at school.
You were good to steady her when

she stumbled and used angy words.

Don’t apologize for the day you forgot the words

from a story you composed in class.
Remember, we wrote them, whispered them,

wrestled with them to help you feel the sound.

Don’t apologize for the day after recess when

I had to send someone for you.
Because your other teacher kept you in your seat,

redoing that ditto ‘till you got it right.

Don’t apologize for the day you never appeared,

missing Indian tacos for lunch.

Remember, it was the day your mother returned

to the rez once again.

Don’t apologize for the day at summer school when

the children heard of your death
We tried to read, we tried to write,

but ended up seeing you.

Don’t apologize for leaving before I could say

how much I loved your spirit.
Remember S.A., you were a fragile duckling,

beginning to become a swan.