A chill air wakes summer warmed waters
into a weave of mists
as tentacles of time
tempt the ghosts of a thousand yesterdays
to rise up and greet the dawn.
Warriors in wisps and white feathers
and slivery maidens
with hair of corn silken silver
milked from the moon
join in a dance of remembrance.
But their fires burn cold
with flames of quicksilver
like minnows swimming skyward
and smoke of earthbound clouds.
*According to Wikipedia and a Sault St Marie casino’s web site (?) Bawating is a Chippewa word meaning “gathering place.” I will investigate further…. But I chose that word for a title, because the area that inspired this poem is in Hamburg Township, Michigan, which near as I can tell was a Chippewa gathering place and hunting grounds. To my understanding, this area was not a place of permanent residence until the current townships were formed in the early to mid 1800s.