In Indian Territory

You show me the basket your mother made,
The light color of the cane entwined with the dyed scarlet,
All so evenly spaced, and the handle a perfect arch.
You take the basket back to your bedroom,
Then show me a rooster carved from a single piece
Of blackjack oak; the scaly bark of the base and back
And the impossible feathering of the tail make me smile.
When you come and sit beside me, you are holding
Nothing in your hands finally, and they are brown
And warm and one rests on my calf like the end of time.

–Shaun Perkins

 

2 thoughts on “In Indian Territory

  1. I love the last line pulling the endearment of the poem together. The steadfast weave or it, literally and figuratively. When I first looked at your picture, I saw a crop circle. How cool is that?f

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s