an indian mother and her three kids on the road

she came in and said, i am working today
have jewelry hand made, I made it myself
she parked the 89 cheby pickup with the camper outside
three little kids looked out at me, dark hair
I beaded these things all by myself, drove down from Lander
was up to Montana selling jewelry on the rezes up there
come from Page, near there anyway, lechee, she said
how is it to be on the road?
she made a tired smile and her eyes twinkled
it is good to be on the road, some times we sell
sometimes we don't, but is good to be there
most times they say, it is too much to drive so far
no, she said, I like it cuz we have a place to sleep
it is warm, when we do good, we sleep in the motel roon
running water, the lights go on with a click, and you take a bath easy
tell me where you come from, she said to me,
we haul wood, and have to use a generator, no tv or icebos
take showers at the community center
she looked to twenty five or so, her eyes were older thatn that though
she said her man left her long ago, and she no money
but somebody took a chance with her, she told the trader I can bead
she sat up all night all winter long and beaded with kerosene lamp
now she can afford a coleman, a generator, it was tough but I made it
she got paid and bought silver, then without any plans loaded up the truck
and headed out, selling her stuff, her indian silver jewelry
that was five years ago, she found life on the road
and that is what she waid, she turned around putting her tray away
and headed out the door of the tribal office, time to go and she smiled
as she went out the door, an indian mother with her three kids on the road
a tough life but it is one she owns, and she it out there somewhere on the road

rustywire