Читать книгу The Red Files - Lisa Bird-Wilson - Страница 16

This Day

the Cree child, kâ-nêwonâskatêw’s grandson, works

at perfecting his one hard line

on the board: I will not speak Indian anymore

one hundred times

and the girl with the shy smile makes hand stitches

tiny staccato notes a cryptic code no one can crack

white thread on white cotton apron invisible

messages for each girl to carry close to her heart as she works

from one side of her day to the other

Miss Blinkensop and her camera set to capture the mundane

moments as obscene as the sun through the south window

Baby Thomas coaxes a smile out of the headmaster’s wife

bangs his chubby fists on the table, tripwires her severity

when he grabs her hand in his strong baby grip

and pulls it to his mouth