small harbour

color me atavistic
i can fit here beside
these bottles – these knives
open up your lonely eyes
we will not be pardoned by sunlight
instead the valley
of sea salted bones
of those before
who knew the way of kindness
of necessity
you drew them out
and bled them dry
now white washed houses
and well worn shoes
sit collecting dust
in this harbour
wrestling the changing tides
with cotton gloves
and rusted anchors.

M.

Reviving a Nation: Mi’Kmaq blog

I can’t believe I forgot to blog about this! During the last semester of college my friend Carol Hopkins and I took on a special project to helpĀ preserveĀ the Mi’Kmaq way of life, including oral histories, by way of a blog. We spoke to many people about their experiences within the culture and were graciously donated rights to photos which have been posted on flickr (note the side bar). Take a look at our blog and please leave a comment!