They are from everywhere
the quiet Indians in the stalls
of the Santa Fe market
and they watch the Anglos
bending over the pots and the rugs
and holding up the jewelry
to find the maker's name.

Just off the plaza
a woman of the Sac and Fox
honored for her quillwork
plays an old game of chance
tossing pieces of bone
in a shallow wooden bowl.

:: Walter Edens, in Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review #6 (1995)

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