To All Appearances A Lady - University of British Columbia

Over on Fossil Bay
the rot of herring roe
strewn amongst broken clam shells, dead crabs,
on dirty grey sand, exposed bedrock,
thickened the morning air,
but gave no cause for bereavement:
these millions of botched birthings!
And none also for the Salish,
no open lamentation for a race
almost wholly obliterated without trace
from their native habitat,
save a few totems, some evidence of middens,
a score of petroglyphs of their guardian spirits
carved a thousand years ago
on smooth flat rock by the shore,
of killer whales, Leviathans again,
to guide their hunts,
the destiny of their tribe.
Having retraced them
gently with finger tips,
they now guide mine.
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