South-bound, hauling new life in detailed cover,
the baby wakes. Making a fuss, “She needs a
káu.” A mother’s steadfast love, a fulfilling
tale of the walking trek to Oklahoma.

“Shh, ee-p’aw-gyan,” quieting, cradling
the new life. This warm embrace revolves around
the child. But outside, a storm rages. Fighting winds
ravage the trail southward, hardening worn skin.

This baby cries, the mother weeps, heart full and
hands free. “This cradle is the only comfort
for you mantaun sân.” Time is fleeting by,
and she is close to Mother, safely sleeping.



Key:
káu: blanket
ee-p’aw-gyan: baby
mantaun sân: child (girl)