raspberry bushes on
the path

tear, bleed, and
sweat.

fabled woman, animals
never fail her scent,

owl watches her from
the treetop,

on her way to the woman
with baskets and brooms,

Cherokee Nation sees the
rainbow flaming in the clouds,

their daugher is on fire, there
is little that men can do her,

deflecting the advances, the
vocal dismay, she continues on,

stopping to cut grass to soften
the controversy,

her pace is more than that of
a sauntering buffalo in heat,

her lust is held in a jute bag,
buffeted by political winds,

inspired by Wilma Mankiller,
the first woman Chief of her Nation,

"I know why you have come," says
the woman with baskets and brooms,

Cherokee Nation sees the
rainbow flaming in the clouds,

their daughers are on fire, there
is little that men can do them.

Copyright 2006 Sage Sweetwater, firebrand
lesbian novelist