Grand Canyon Journal

New look with slight revisions.

Poetry Etc

Grand Canyon Journal

Juniper seeds are blue before they dry
Rub some on your hands
The oily fragrance is not easily forgotten.

I know what seed is, a thought, a word, an action evil or good
an hour spent with someone you hardly know.
“These are juniper seeds, dried and blessed by our medicine man
They will protect you from evil.”

That’s what the Navajo woman told when I gave her money.
She kept looking down the road as if evil were about to arrive.

“Why are you nervous?”
“Oh, I’m looking for the ranger.
I want to see if he comes.”
“What would happen?” “He might get me for the taxes.”
“What do you mean, taxes.” “I don’t take no taxes in selling.”

“Why not?”

“This was once Navajo land, still is,
but the ranger forgets that.” She laughed.
“I am Navajo, all this land is my home, don’t…

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