Raven pulls the sun down
after tribal boats
churn away from the shore
Nets descend with frantic fish
shivering in their interrupted search
for rivers from which they came
So close a destination
felt in fins and swim bladders
for remembered homes
Fishermen, father and son
from the Suquamish,
arch forward with heavy nets
Then fall back in strained pulling
upon shorelines feathered with eel
grass we chose not to mow.
When this property could not be owned,
any more than possessing the sun,
was this shore their home?
Raven repeats a shared song
lends its image to rattles
shaking in dances with drums
Gulls shriek tossing ragged wings
even after a white sun slips
behind purple hills
Everything here wants
its share of the salmon
like relics sacred as bones.
Mary Kollar
2020
Mary's Room With a View 
Thank you, Mary, for this sliver of contemplation in our troubled world.
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Thank you, Virginia. Your latest blog with mountain scenery remains in my memory of inspiration.
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Oh, gosh, Mary!!!! Beautifully rich poem and gorgeous photos. A time when the air was clear and the sky was blue. Thanks so much. You lifted my heart.
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Beautiful and insightful. I needed this uplift and tribute to our ancestors.
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👍
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Feel as if I were there with you observing the scene, but never could have come up with your insights and appreciation for nature’s interplay and our minuscule dot in the history of the universe.
Thank you for lifting my spirit today!
Sylvia
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Your poetry is so wonderful. Thanks for sharing.Arlene
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