1.Homes the place we head for in our sleep.
2. Box elevator cars stumbling north in dreams
3. dont clutches for us. We catch them on the run.
4. The rails, old lacerations that we love,
5. shoot parallel across the face and break
6. just under Turtle Mountains. Riding scars
7. you cant impersonate lost. Home is the place they cross.
8. The lame guard strikes a tick and makes the dark
9. less tolerant. We watch through cracks in boards
10. as the visit starts rolling, rolling till it hurts
11. to be here, cold in formula clothes.
12. We know the sheriffs waiting at midrun
13. to take us back. His car is dumb and warm.
14. The highway doesnt rock, it only hums
15. like a university extension of long insults. The worn- follow up welts
16. of ancient punishments lead back and forth.
17. All runaways drudge dresses, long green ones,
18. the color you would think shame was. We scrub
19. the sidewalks down because its shameful work.
20. Our brushes cut the stone in watered arcs
21. and in the soak frail outlines shiver clear
22. a moment, things us kids touch on the dark
23. face before it hardened, pale, remembering
24. delicate old injuries, the spines of call and leaves.
Louise Erdrichs poem Indian Boarding School: The Runaways reads like a compact story of Native American children dreaming of prehistorical experiences in their quest to return home and their failure to do so. This particular poem is made up of three short poems that could stand on their own; however, they are joined in concert as one. The first stanza describes the path to freedom the children must take. The punt stanza shows the reader where the children are caught and their return trip to the boarding...
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