Summer 2025

Maggie and Me

Maggie and me we sip our tea. She is native I am me. Our eyes talk, we know, we remember each other. We still hear the drums we feel the feather float by “it’s message, ‘you’re sisters’ Maggie and me we sip our tea.

Maggie remembers when cancer visited her, Maggie and me we sipped our tea.

I miss her.

Fear Feeds Fear

The owl hoots at night, fear follows, there will be a death, soon a tragedy will follow.

Stillness covers the camp even the dogs hide in old junk cars. Hunger will not bring them out.

Fear is powerful, Fear feeds fear.

Three Flashes

The trails on the reservation are long and dusty. The people greet us with hugs.

A bright flash hits my eyes. An Indian lady sends a signal with a broken piece of mirror.

Three flashes signal we’re home, waiting for you.

The Sewing Machine

The letter said, I am from Missouri, I work at a chicken pluckin’ plant. I can sew. I want to visit you.

She arrived with her sewing machine.

Soon, small children were running around in bright colored sack shirts. The girls’ shirts were long to the ankles, the boys came to the knees.

Handy because in the summertime small boys wore no pants.

Fun – Fun – Fun

We had a party at school for the children. The elderly heard about it and here they came. They never had a party or a school. They were ready for some fun.

The older girls showed the grandmothers how to use the hula hoops.

The laughter was contagious. Granma’s were laughing at themselves and each other. Long traditional skirts got tangled up with the hula hoops… and fun- fun- fun.

The grampa’s hid their chuckles behind their coloring books, yup all ages love to color.

Art is their passion.

“Grandpa We Love You”

The children were sad, Grampa passed away.

He always told us to go to school, learn our letters and numbers. We miss him they repeated.

We put a cell phone in the coffin so we can still tell him “Grandpa we love you.”