Ladies and gentlemen of 1956, the Year of the Poem has arrived, specifically to remember Joel Ash, who wrote this column for 10 years. Having watched Tony Bruscino write poetry on the train back from a freshman football game, I said, “Why not?” And here goes.

“Away in the sky on a mesa high, rocks drop off to a ruin.

The brush is thick, our ponies are quick, we know it’ll take some doin’.

The Ancient Ones have left their home, we stop to wonder why.

Where did they go, who was their foe? Under this cloudless sky

Paul leads the way, thru the bright of day, we scramble up the kiva.

Bugs everywhere and prickle pear! But in our hearts we are believers.

Belief in the land, belief in the sky, belief in the forces that bring

Together, this place, these horses and men and women in loving embrace.

Back to the ranch, down the hill, thru the branch—the mystery seems to unfold.

They’re not gone, they’re still here—in our minds it is clear, their spirits remain in our souls.”

Now, please put pen to paper and send your creation to me! We have a year to remember Joel! Chuck Woodhouse continues: “I suggest that reading an article in the May 2021 edition of The Atlantic by David Treuer, titled ‘Return the National Parks to the Tribes,’ would be helpful for you and any others who share your position to understand the history of the past and the present of the treatment of Native Americans by the government and people of the United States. The plight of the Native Americans is expressed along with that of the other minorities in this country.”

See you in “The Woods!” The Indian will never die (metaphorically).

—J.W. Crowley, 15612 SE 42nd Place, Bellevue, WA 98006; (425) 746-1824; crowleyjack58@gmail.com