For Generationsby Charles H. Webb Two Indians draped in buffal

For Generations
by Charles H. Webb

Two Indians draped in buffal robes
trudge across a crowded city park.
They ware pelts under their robes:
fox, rabbit, beaver, bear,
so many pelts the Indians could be

hairballs perched on toothpick legs.
They trudge because they ware snowshoes;
though there is no snow.
The sun glares, hot and bright.
Spring flowers sparkle everywhere.

"Where do you two think YOU'RE going!?"
a buffalo-faced policeman demands.
"We track the wandering herds,"
the lead Indian replies,
"as we have for generations."

Buffalo-face mumbles, "Oh."
The crowd parts like a white sea.
The Indians trudge through us,
heads down, leaning far forward
into what must be a bitter wind.