She Remembers The Future

          “We are closer than

          blood,” Noni Daylight

          tells her. “It isn’t

          Oklahoma or the tribal

          blood but something more

          that we speak.”

          (The otherself knows

          and whispers

          to herself.)

          The air could choke, could

          kill, the way it tempts

          Noni to violence, this

          morning. But she needs

          the feel of danger,

                                        for life.

          She feels the sky

          tethered to the changing

          earth, and her skin

          responds, like a woman

          to her lover.

          It could be days, it could

          be years, White Sands

                                              or Tuscon.

          She asks,

                        “Should I dream you afraid

                        so that you are forced to save

                        yourself?

                        Or should you ride colored horses

                        into the cutting edge of the sky

                        to know

                        that we’re alive

                        we are alive.”