From an Old Teacher
By: Henry Braun So unhappily magnified to me, This man, who sees me as small As I see him large, Both looking through the same telescope At different ends. Others disparage him to me; some tear him down. A few, perhaps, praise me to him. But when at rare times we meet Inescapably on the lonely sidewalk And cannot talk, We edge around each other like gamebirds Of different species. And because that is so, The instrument will not come down for life, But hold to the same sharp-focussed ratio Our blindness towards each other. |
Sedna, The Sea Goddess
By: Denise Duhamel Petrel was altricial, born helpless, with closed eyes. He lived high on the cliffs where he was safe. The Kittiwakes and Razorbills built their nests halfway up or on the ground. With thick coats of natal down, they were getting their own food before Petrel could even fly. In a snow-hut near by, Sedna stood, her head in the tropics, her waist in a temperate zone. Her feet were cold. Such was the nature of the igloo in which she lived -- animal skins lining the walls, the nostril hole in the roof, letting out bad air. Sedna was proud, refusing the suitors who came to court her. After Petrel had been a long time pampered, he turned himself into a man, knowing no mere bird was a worthy wife. He wore a handsome parka and spectacles made from walrus tusks to disguise his beady eyes, the only part of him that didn't easily transform. He was able to coax Sedna away from her home with his songs, his voice still sweet as a bird's. Sedna was happy until Petrel's glasses fell off, and the trance was broken. She looked at the nest in which she'd been living and shrieked. She jumped into her father's boat that had long been searching for her. Petrel swooped down towards the sea, flapping his wings, making waves. Sedna's fathers and brothers pushed her from the boat, afraid of the powerful spirits. Blue with cold, Sedna came to the surface, grabbing at the side of the kayak, her fingers turning to ice. Her brothers hit at her hands with a paddle. Her fingertips broke off and turned into sea lions. Sedna. tried once more to save her life -- her second joints split away and became ground seals. The next time her third joints became walruses and her thumbs sprang into whales. A great wave drowned Sedna's family. Petrel's cry woke the Kittiwakes and Razorbills. Sedna became a powerful spirit -- living as low as Petrel did high -- sending winds and wrecking kayaks. When she is happy she leads seals to hunters. Without fingers, she can no longer plait her own braids, each as thick as an arm. |
AnalysisFrom an Old Teacher:
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