The First Art Critic
I put the sticks in this progression
so they mimic the thorn holes
that let the day come through at night.
Their relative sizes show
the order in our tribe: elders,
hunters, those who make homes.
The fact I’ve stripped the bark
shows the hardships we suffer
in the ice, how few prey are.
The shapes make me feel cold, stabbed,
but show defiance, how we fight the storms,
rebuild our fires, search for summer.
they look like little swans.