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Twenty-six years, I've lived in this house in Seattle, longer than I've lived in any other house. Twenty-eight years, I've been married to this Hidatsa Indian woman. She was born of cranberry and wild rice. I was born of salmon. Together, we create a good dinner—hahaha! And, today, I realized that she and I, reservation kids gone urban, have turned our home into a three- story rez. Yes, after we spend our outside hours in the white world, we come home to the rez that we, Indian wife & husband, have created— where the ceremonies are private and don't need to be translated.
"... born of cranberry and rice ... and salmon" says it beautifully. Color and texture and taste, melded together for a lifetime..motion of the salmon and the placidity of the rice, lighted with twinkling red lights.
A sweet and delicate poem Sherman, a political one as well. Reservation, white world, the door between.