Native People |
THE WET GRASS OF MORNINGIn the spring when I bathe my feet in the wet grass of morning,I see many smiles upon the meadows. . . . There are drops of shining dew clinging to the blue harebells, And the little white starflowers sparkle with dew, shining. . . . Old Woman Spider has beaded many beautiful patterns, Spreading them where the Sun's ray falls. . . . He also is smiling as he catches the red of the blackbird's opening wing, As he hearkens to the mocking-bird inventing new songs. . . . I was an old man as I sat by the evening fire; When I bathe my feet in the wet grass of morning I am young again. |
THE WET GRASS OF MORNING
by Gary Gangnier , Teacher, Saint Vincent's Elementary School
Central Quebec School Board
Sillery, Quebec