I don’t know if I’m writing a love song or a lament
Until now, the lakes and life had been generous in their gifts, and abundant. Water buoyed us. People I loved lived. I handled the loss like someone who’d gone around believing the things she cherishes would be around forever.
Do they leave together, the language and the last breath?
Maamwimaajaan ina Anishinaabemoyaanh miinwaa neseyaanh?