
Wanting to Say Things: The Power of Stories
AN ANTHOLOGY OF NATIVE AMERICAN LITERATURE
"Remember" by Joy Harjo
Remember the sky that you were born under,
know each of the star's stories.
Remember the moon, know who she is. I met her
in a bar once in Iowa City.
Remember the sun's birth at dawn, that is the
strongest point of time. Remember sundown
and the giving away to night.
Remember your birth, how your mother struggled
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of
her life, and her mother's, and hers.
Remember your father. He is your life also.
Remember the earth whose skin you are:
red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth
brown earth, we are earth.
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their
tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them,
listen to them. They are alive poems.
Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the
origin of this universe. I heard her singing Kiowa war
dance songs at the corner of Fourth and Central once.
Remember that you are all people and that all people are you.
Remember that you are this universe and that this universe is you.
Remember that all is in motion, is growing, is you.
Remember that language comes from this.
Remember the dance that language is, that life is.
Remember.





Discussion Questions
-
How do the lines “Remember the moon, know who she is. I met her / in a bar once in Iowa City” and “I heard her singing Kiowa war / dance songs at the corner of Fourth and Central once” work in the poem? Do you think it adds or detracts to the message of the poem?
-
Why does Harjo use the literary technique of anaphora, repeating “Remember” at the beginning of lines? What impact does this technique have?
-
Why does Harjo use feminine pronouns to describe the moon and wind?
Editor's Imitation
Remember the tattered quilt of your childhood,
know your mother’s careful stitches
and the unraveling thread.
Remember the thunderstorm, know
she means no harm. Learn
to dance to her beat.
Remember the puddles you jumped in
and the shoes muddied with history.
Remember your father, how he fell asleep
while telling you a bedtime story.
Remember the cicadas, scraped knees, gravel alleys
that all have their stories.