Day One Hundred and Twenty-One: A Song for Kelly

When I was in high school at Western Christian College on the almost-bald prairie of North Weyburn, Saskatchewan, a young man from the Turtleford area came to live at the boarding school.

Here’s number twelve of thirteen, from a series of poems called "Poem for a Worn and Torn Bible." Following the excerpt is a song I wrote, remembering Kelly.  

xii

I’ve just remembered that I did buy

myself a new bible in high school

I think it was a hard cover, yes, and red

the paper crisp like linen on my fingers

with no concordance or map in the back

and I began to keep pressed flowers

yes, I remember clipping dogwood

from a trip to British Columbia

and the smell

I remember sour flowers

and dorm rooms of unmade beds

and yesterday’s garbage

because it’s Saturday and there’s no room check

I gave that book away to a young man

who came to our bible school

just before he left

told me he made his own costume

for fancy dancing, how every feather

had to be fastened so securely

it wouldn’t come off in the ring

and he had long black hair when he arrived

on campus, and we sat in the cafeteria talking

and on the ice-age erratic outside the classroom building

just after they’d made him cut his hair

I was more upset than he was

but now that I know my history

I guess he couldn’t expect more

from a church school

he never said goodbye

except for the eagle feather

enveloped in a loose leaf note

folded in threes

Kelly, Kelly

Eagle feather, bond of friendship, freely given, freely gone

Like the memory, lost in shadows, freely given, freely gone

We met in line, I liked your braid, one week passed into another

Your smile wide and not afraid, they cut your hair my brother

Kelly, Kelly are you out there, you must be a grown man by now

Are you dancing, is your hair long, Kelly, Kelly, hear this song

That big old rock beside the school as hard as rules as soft as down

Worlds apart we sat together beating hearts like beating drums

Kelly, Kelly are you out there, you must be a grown man by now

Are you dancing, is your hair long, Kelly, Kelly, hear this song.

Running, running, always running, fences getting in your way

Lines and x’s cross this country where your feet belong today.

Kelly, Kelly are you out there, you must be a grown man by now

Are you dancing, is your hair long, Kelly, Kelly hear this song.

Eagle feather, bond of friendship, freely given, freely gone

Like the memory lost in shadow, freely given, freely gone.

I carried that eagle feather with me all through university, my first teaching job and then to Black Lake where I gave it away to a young man who I thought needed it. I didn’t know the etiquette, but it had been freely given to me, so it felt right to pass along. Although, if I’m honest, I do miss that feather hanging along the dresser mirror in my room.