Wild Song
a poem about courtship
Diane and I fell in love as late 20th Century Indians so her family didn't ask me to prove myself worthy by giving them twelve wild horses. But if I'd been forced to enter that primal battle then you better believe that I would've borrowed twelve lassos and saddles from a dozen of my rez cousins and then trekked into the wilderness to do my city boy best.
I’d say,
instead of taming wild horses,
you throw your lassos
around wild words
and you do it well.
Your ancestors would be proud.
OR you might have tried fancy-dancing your way out of that dilemma . . .