Nia Francisco
a.
- dear lady earth
with
swollen lips
your beauty
comes and goes
- those shoes you wear
muddy "tennies"
- you don't know a tennis game
not even an experience of that game
- but those tennies stagger
to a bootlegger's joint
- dear lady dusty
bundled warm this warm day
you stand by a highway
possibly hitching
from Eddie's, to Tropic's, to Navajo Inn
- i saw you wearing your scarf
red yellow flowers covering your head
a scarf shadowing your dark skin
- a face that is only a face
and in the shadow of the scarf
bloodshot eyes sparkle
sad and thirsty
- dear lady
with "roma" delusions
my ancestors beaded inside you
you are my mother
mother see us
we are sober but drunk
with pain
caused by the same damn shame you learned
-
as your children we'll stay
and our delusions
- are colorful
red yarn tied around braids
our minds twisting
in rage to overcome
- that same damn shame you learned
- and
only now I see
we remain like you, mother
again hitching again
from Albuquerque to Gallup to Window Rock, Chinle
- and the shadows
of distant clouds
hiding our red tired faces
- dear lady drunk
- we are together again
unalike
and we love you still
as our mother clan
From Blue Horses for Navajo Women by Nia Francisco, Greenfield Review Press
© 1988 Nia Francisco
