Oran Brucks Poems

As the seasons of my silence grow,

Cherished sounds grown dim that I used to know
...

On the streets, hear our American voices rise and declare
While we gather, steadfast, free and brave.
With signs held high, we chant and sing,
'No throne, no crown, no tyrant king! '
...

In the cold blue hush before morning,
where cedar branches stitch the sky,
Ravens gather like scattered thoughts
And Crows arrive with watchful eyes.
...

,
Green River
The Green River ran like poured glass,
Cold with a mountain's memory,
...

Hey Great Eagle
Hey, great eagle, high up in my cedar tree,
I see you there—do you see me? With your regal snowy head and watchful eyes,
You circle slowly through the skies.
...