I do not need shoes to walk.
The Strawberry Moon whistles behind waves.
Sunflowers pull black bees.
Tides carry shells out to sea.
Sour Grass fades under a melon planting sun.
I do not have to count stems to plant corn and beans and squash.
I am a child whose legs glisten like ash leaves under a Harvest Moon.
I do not need to gather money to breathe into the cane of a flute,
nor do I need the songs of those who killed the ancestors