By David Groulx, 2015, Ojibwe / Canada.
A black and white picture
The sun is shining through a window behind you
Your hair black short Your small brown hands folded neatly on a tiny wooden desk
Some of the girls in the picture are smiling You are not Your eyes staring into the camera Seem a million miles away
That stare I will see seldom and one day understand that storms begin millions of miles away

David, I cried when I read your poem, for I know of the photograph you speak of. Your Mother, my Auntie, has shown me that photograph. She also told me of the time she had spent at the residential school, and all the while I held back tears for the child of that time, and the adult of the day.