america never looked for us
I forget my name and it turns me gold
canned heat inn winter is warm
when I find you and
listen to
all we've become
can you dream in color
if you were not born in color?
you once told me we could never separate
being Native from
the original
big migration
into
you're in america now.
____________________
M.S. Redcherries
Mother
Penguin Books, 2024