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Rattle Charmer
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| My mother’s head swayed flower braids white as larkspur whose drawn-out looks threatened to slide off her face until she smiled, heavenly, lifting them back into place. In her protection I came to know myself, and her memories of me became my own. I recall being set out to play on a widespread blanket; drowsy heat turned my nods slipping over into sleep. My mother visits with friends a slight reach away; her hands busy with quilt work. People talked, the way they talk, flapping tongues as thick as silken cocoons while nature married me as a baby the Indian way. Our courtship being a snake dance stars spinning and the sun turned into a moon that whirled flat as a dime as the snakes crawled toward my shadow allowing my legend to walk forever. Two rattlesnakes gliding into my infant’s shadow, where they coiled together, joining me in a nap. |
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Written By:Sarah Picklesimer
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E-mail:pickle@ctc.net
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Submitted: March 24, 2000
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