I was her basajuan

Mike Bell/ September 9, 2020/ www.mikebellpoems.com/ 0 comments

I was her basajuan
[on her mountains]
where lives were all
or nothing – ancient
ways of woodlands
& forests – with less
knowledge – only a
mythical whisper of
a protective man – I
now hide from thrill-
seekers [& tall tales
about my old ways]