Benjamin Lake

I almost drown there. Others did drown. But nobody swims That water anymore. Reclaimed by aquatic Plants and dragonflies, The lake is stagnant And iridescent. Or so My sisters tell me. I haven’t stood On that shoreline For decades. Sometimes, it feels Like my reservation Heart has become The lake—unclaimed, Overgrown, forgotten By the children Of the children Of the children Who grew up With me. I escaped From my reservation Forty-one years ago. But, sometimes, I wonder if I’ll Eventually return And be that Indian Elder who sits In a folding chair At every powwow And celebrates What used to be And what has become. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit shermanalexie.substack.com/subscribe