An Indian’s Life in a Museum
Smelling Food Trucks parked on the curb
Water trickling down the “naturally” shaped fountain
In the middle of Washington DC,
Is the Museum of the American Indian
The large Smithsonian building is the side of a cliff,
worn away by the forces of nature.
Carved by fire, wind, ice, and water,
is the Museum of the American Indian
Dad urged me to go,
But I would have rather had Ice Cream instead of
going to the “boring”
Museum of the American Indian
Learning about how American Indians are losing their identity,
as fast as an object breaking the sound barrier.
so much that people are more interested in Disney World
then learning about the Indians in
the Museum of the American Indian.
Viewing the world from their eyes.
Nature as a spirit and making everything
connect continuously like a spider web.
Coming out knowing that there are other people who fight
just to keep their identity intact so that they can live it for the rest of their lives
and give it to future generations.
I Learned all of this
in the Museum of the American Indian.
For More Poetry Fridays, Click Here!