On a shelf in a New Mexico souvenir shop sat a myriad of wooden dolls. The Katsina's dolls caught my eye. It felt disrespectful to take a picture without buying, so I made up a story instead.
Katsina Kachinas
You stare at me
From the shelf
Oval ball eyes
Painted red
Wooden feathers
Striped yellow
Your robot head
Baring your
Triangle teeth
So angry
Your bull horn
nose ready
To defend
The butterfly princess placed next to you.
The one holding the broom
Who could away
The orange at the top of her wings drips down like
liquid fire
Yet her wings do not disentigrate
She has swept the dirt floor so clean , so clean
she never even flaps her wings.
Why would she?
Her eyes are cast
Down.
Loving. Learning. Worshipping. Wondering. Railing. Hoping. Holding on. Letting go.
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