There are certain times
When the wind gets high
And I tumble around
Waving my arms
Begging it to lift me away
I reread Indian Killer
And there is a girl named Laura
Mentioned once or twice
She was Navajo, too
But she's never a character
Maybe Laura-Navajos
(Or Navajo-Lauras)
Are meant to be whispered in passing
Laughed about years later
Remembered fondly but vaguely
Am I really a Laura-Navajo
Or a Navajo-Laura
Since I am not enrolled
Or is it Indian enough
Just to know I am Indian?
When the wind gets high
I pray it will pick me up
And blow me to Arizona
And dropp me off
On the rez
Laura, You're a long way from Seattle to the Res... Might be better to take a plane ride there: -) When I went to High School in Cortez, CO one of my best friends was Dennis Billy. He was Navajo and one of the nicest guys I've ever known. Peace, Ray
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem. I like this a lot.I've always been fascinated by almost anything that has to do with Indians. This was a very good read. Thanks. Richard