The Red, Red Wood |
A spider is on the violin bow. Sitting, thinking of the musical holes in the space of the red, red wood. His infinite world is full of deep thoughts (all spidery thoughts) That revolve ‘round and ‘round; Like the web that he weaves; like the air that he breaths. The thoughts that are full of only his needs; only his wants, to feel the pleasure and delight he feels, When the bow strikes 'cross the strings Pulled over the holes in that red, red wood. |
| written by Oniena Onda, A Wyandotte Woman Copyright ©2002 |
 |
 |
| Picture taken in October, 2002 James, an Inupiat Eskimo who lives in Kotzebue, Alaska |
 |
|