mami saved books beneath her pillow, / pressed beneath her head like dried roses. / the pages were rippled from the rain / that dripped through the holes in our tin roof, / the covers curling upwards, begging to be opened.
 

Sister & I sat together in the grass--the only Indians surrounded by white settlers. / The games were over pretty quick. The Land Run too. They’ll send us home early. / No one knows what to do with us. The kid with a fake monocle won the costume contest. / One of dad’s friends on the school board said our costumes & teepee were most original.