At the Powwow

byCheryl Savageau
my mother, red-haired,
who lived with my father
forty years,
who buried my grandparents,
whose skin was brown, she said,
from age,
watches the feathered dancers
and says, so that's
what real Indians look like.

I wrap the shawl around my shoulders,
and join the circle.

© 1995 Cheryl Savageau
From Dirt Road Home, Curbstone Press.

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