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Elizabeth Woody

About featured Poet Laureate Elizabeth Woody

Courtesy of the Oregon Cultural Trust 2016

In an excerpt from the Oregon Encyclopedia, Janice Gould writes:  Eilizabeth Woody was named Oregon Poet Laureate in 2016, the first Native American appointed to the position… her heritage of ecological and tribal values has inspired her to write poetry and prose that direct readers’attention to the relationships between place and culture. In “In Memory of Crossing the Columbia,” she writes: “My board and blanket were Navajo,/but my bed is inside the river.” Woody provides a legacy of memory, a sturdy account of how Native people are born of the land and for the land.

Drawn from the Oregon Cultural Trust:  Elizabeth A. Woody is an enrolled member of the Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs, Oregon, of Yakama Nation descent, and is “born for” the Tódích’íinii (Bitter Water clan) of the Navajo Nation. Her paternal grandfather’s clan is Mą‘ii deeshgiizhinii (Coyote Pass – Jemez clan).She received the American Book Award in 1990, and the William Stafford Memorial Award for Poetry and was a finalist for the Oregon Book Awards in 1995. Elizabeth Woody has published three books of poetry:

Luminaries of the Humble, (SunTracks, Vol 30), Univ of Arizona Press.
Seven Hands Seven Hearts, Eighth Mountain Press.
Hand into Stone : Poems, Contact II Publications.

(Elizabeth Woody has tirelessly served as advocate for both native and writing communities over the state. Please visit the Oregon Encyclopedia and the Oregon Cultural Trust for more details.)

My Brother–Elizabeth Woody

It was bruise marks of hands that alluded to tracks of murder.
Her neck was twisted too many times in short rope,
and the tree too high for a small woman.

“He was here.” he says
“He came to her new Man,
too, and said that he was coming for him next.”


The nightmare is black tongue.
No footprints.
The form in the room
laughs, “Ha Ha, Goody!”
He sees that it is vapor.


Later, when he cuts her down,
he knows that she came to him,
to him, she laughed.
The night will not make her unhappy.


He had no time to hunt,
since he had to bury
three more brothers the next day.
Car wreck on ice.


The insidious soul danced across the river
to entice other women to death.


If he is man he is subject to will.
If one prefers Archangels,
he can be cast into oblivion.


That does not comfort the people
and we must battle
with Bell and Prayer, for the brother.
This will take up the nights
and the rest of our thoughts.
The brother has seen the foreshadowing of events.
into the mad boil of the river’s strength.

From Luminaries of the Humble by Elizabeth Woody.  © 1994 The Arizona Board of Regents.  Reprinted by permission of the University of Arizona Press. 

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