TOUCHING JAMES KOLLER ~

James Koller with his children
Thea, Ida Rose & Bert
circa 1988
w/ Carson Arnold
Vermont

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We just had word while coming in the door from a day away, no lights on yet, getting the wood fire re-lit, that old friend of the family Jim Koller had a massive stroke Friday night in Joplin, Missouri.

His son Bert Koller sent us the news from Maine, where Jim had left a few days earlier for the midwest to be with family members before heading to the southwest where there is more family, and wanting to be way west in California for even more family somewhere down the road this winter.

Jim has lots of family — children, grandchildren, and so many friends.

It's time to put head, hands and hearts together and send the man we love some of that love. Even if you don't know Jim you may one day know his poetry, Teton Sioux translations, stories, songs, chants, and charms.

The editor of Coyote's Journal is somewhere on the cusp tonight.

In the territory where Jesse and Frank James called home.

[BA]

photo 1988 © bob & susan arnold

"I'm writing you all to let you know that Jim had a stroke last night in Joplin, Missouri. He was also diagnosed with pneumonia. He is currently unable to communicate & the prognosis is not great, but his vitals are fine for the time being. If he does pull through he may need full time care. . ."

— Bert Koller, 29 November 2014

DUDLEY LAUFMAN ( ISLANDIAN POEMS ) ~

NEW!  from  L O N G H O U S E

The Islandian Poems & Fables 
 Dudley Laufman

Longhouse 2015

72 pages, perfect bound, 5.5 x 6.25 inches

ISBN 978-1-929048-25-0

$12

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Fable of the Dancing Trees

A man ran up a snow hill.  From the top he could look out over much of the Islandian highlands to the south and the sloping mountains north of Morono.  He could see a train on the monorail to Islandian's northernmost village.  Running up the trail below him were some evergreen trees dashing rapidly out of sight below him and then climbing towards him.  They surrounded him and started pushing him down the hill, their needles were sharp.  He pushed some roughly away, but after some persuasive struggle they got him down the hill and over to a beautiful tree woman.  She had a little tuft of needles under her lower lip, and earrings on her branches like the decorations that American John Lang talks about in their holidays they have.  The man said Oh I am sorry to have pushed you, I hope I didn't hurt you.  But why have you captured me?  She said, I need a partner for our dance and I want you, will you please be my partner?  Oh yes, he cried. Yes, I will.  She took his hand and led him into a dance in the high forest of Morono.  Her needles were soft.

http://www.laufman.org/