Tag Archives: Indians


We played soccer while the turkey slow cooked,
with the Mexicans from the kitchen who
half wanted to celebrate their newfound
Americanness and half were happy
just to have a full day off finally.
We watched football later in the day and
wondered if there were more traditional
sports that could be played, the Pilgrims’ ping-pong,
Columbus’ lacrosse, a Viking type
of tennis, snowballs thrown over the bow
of a long ship after a lengthy trip
into the unknown, some ancient native
game, perhaps, something lost forever to
time and race and smallpox and translation.


Just as star maps turn
Atlantic tides turn
East Indies a fool’s errand

The ocean eaten by days
The crew by disbelief
The intrepid explorer

Him, faithful, relentless
Some half-eaten meal
Churning inside

As the Santa Maria
Listed, and with glint
Of sunlight on sand

The spyglass glimmer
Looks the same, yet not
As the sparkle of sea

Turns a smile of hope
For being right when wrong
For what might be