A poem by Ashley
Where in the depths of dust
have you travelled now, lady louse?
The leaves of the forest’s trees gloss over my eyes
and my own hair.
I hunch on all fours, listening to the heartbeat in the floor
Peeling in curls,
away from the madrona
a fist forming of the forgotten first faces
I see people who remember them
We remember them
collective drum hide hearts shaking the floor
alive in our gripping hands,
our Singing Feet
free to kiss the dust we dance on
that dances with us
swirling up with a name
We are Duwamish
We are still here.
To read more from Ashley, check out her zine, Lady Louse, by clicking here.