The man asks me,
“Do you speak Cherokee?”
But it’s all I ever speak
The end goal of several generations of a
We’ve slipped the barriers,
Evaded border guards.
Some of Kim’s poems are tenderly, achingly beautiful:
The water I used to drink spent time
Inside a pitched basket
It adopted the internal shape
Took on the taste of pine
And changed me forever.
And for those who didn’t know, or didn’t care to know, the many faces of depredation:
Eds. note: Kim Shuck wrote to say that she is an enrolled with the Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma.