Here is a poem that was just published from my friend, Shann Ferch. His words are deeply reflective and redemptive. I love him and his art.

Here is the link where you can find it online: Here

My Dad, in America

Your hand on my jaw 
           but gently

and that picture of you 
punching through snow 
           to bring two deer, a gopher,

and a magpie 
to the old Highwalker woman

who spoke only Cheyenne 
           and traced our footprints

on leather she later chewed to soften. 
           We need to know in America there is still blood

for forgiveness. 
Dead things for the new day