For Sunday Whirl: Wordle #26
The Hoop Dancer
What I remember
is a beautiful young man,
bearing pride of his people
on straight angular shoulders
held stiff as he danced
through hand hewn hoops dropped
on stage. They’d been fired,
bent, in ancient manner.
Hand sewn leather strips
swished to beat of moccasined
feet, that stilled only when
he told of broken promises,
treaties of meaningless words
spoken by men whose true causes
should have toppled from weight
of greed which compelled them.
Remember listening quietly
as those gathered asked shallow
questions about traditions they
learned while watching television
as children. Left, feeling somehow
Have wondered about him,
through the years, that beautiful
young man. Did he bolt afterward,
into the night, to drive toward home
alone, bursting with sadness,
perhaps struggling the entire way
with the need to forgive
such blinded ignorance?
Elizabeth Crawford 10/16/11
Notes: When I saw the word hoops, I knew what I must write about. It was difficult to bend the wordle words around this long ago experience that still haunts me at odd moments. The beautiful young man had come to our city to share his tribes traditions, using music he himself had written and clothes he had sewn with his own hands. The hoops were beautifully and lovingly decorated. But, the audience seemed to want to ignore the effort and skill and question him about the obvious, one of the topics being how rich the Native Americans have become since casinos have come to our state.