LEARNING TO WEAVE
My mother took me in her arms.
We sat together at her loom.
She took my hands
to guide them
along the weaving way.
She showed them how to weave.
We did not weave
straight across the loom.
That is not our way.
We wove with one color
for a little way up.
And then with another color
for a little way up.
We kept the edges straight.
We wove not too tight
and not too loose
and pounded it down,
pounded it down,
pounded it.
But when I told my father,
"See, I wove this blanket,"
my mother spoke sharply.
"We do not say
things that are not true,"
she told me.
I hid my face away
from the sharp words of
my mother,
but soon my mother's hand
came gently
to touch my hair.
