Native I am, Cocopa is a poem written by Michael Lee Johnson and shared with The Ugly Writers under the theme Treasures That We Keep for the month of May.

Native I Am, Cocopa (V3)

Now once-great events fading
into seamless history,
I am a mother, proud.
My native numbers are few.
In my heart digs many memories
forty-one relatives left in 1937.
Decay is all left of their bones, memories.
I pinch my dark skin.
I dig earthworms
farm dirt from my fingertips
grab native
Baja and Southwestern California,
its soil and sand wedged between my spaced teeth.
I see the dancing prayers of many gods.
I am Cocopa, a remnant of the Yuman family.
I extend my mouth into forest fires
Colorado rivers, trout-filled mountain streams.
I survive on corn, melons, and
pumpkins, mesquite beans.
I still, dance in grass skirts
drink a hint of red Sonora wine.

I am a mother, proud.
I am parchment from animal earth.

https://soundcloud.com/roel-umali-hernandez/native-i-am-cocopa-v3short

Note:

This is the story poem of the Cocopah Indian tribe and their journey over the years. The River People descended from the greater Yuman-speaking area, which occupied lands along the Colorado River. The Cocopah Indian tribe had no written language. However, historical records have been passed on orally and by outside visitors. Michael Lee Johnson lived ten years in Canada, Vietnam era.

Give some love to Michael Lee Johnson by checking out his updates on Facebook or by reading his previous works here: