As the sound of the blaring sirens neared my neighborhood, and I lay in the dust bleeding out, barely breathing, and staring at the dreamily star-filled night sky. All I could I think was, “ hmmm…so, this is the way my world ends… not in a furious ball of fire… but only like the whisper of a passing breeze… perfect.” for the last time In life I mentioned my maker’s name…then I closed my eyes, lay back, and surrendered… and then I let go…

Published by Pack Redfeather

I am a walking contradiction of traditions some say. An African American and Native American Muslim poet with a personal life history as violently turbulent as a Storm. A visionary from the bottom of life’s social barrel striving to share the hope found in the light of faith through sometimes dark but real poetry. I’m a former member of the Bloods street gang, former serial bank robber, and both federal/state prison convict. I live on my mother’s tribal reservation of the Leech Lake band of Ojibwe in Minnesota.

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