I was afraid of Indians
I had a recurring dream
they were parading down my street
and the rule was
white people were not to look at them
they would pass by in the night
so long as we kept our gaze turned away
but I
could not
resist
the colors, the beads, the flowers
the beautiful men and women
with dark skin, and long black hair
I'd carefully lift the curtains in my dark bedroom
I'd watch the parade
until one tall Indian man
suddenly turned his head
and looked directly into my eyes
I dropped the curtain
and hid beneath my bed
so afraid of what was coming
I'd wake up
in that same bed
next to that same window
scared and guilty
the street now empty and quiet
An abandoned and neglected Indian graveyard
by my house
was abused by kids from my neighborhood
I never participated
in kicking over
or otherwise vandalizing a grave stone
but I did climb the fence
and I walked on that ground
that I was not meant to walk on
the guilt of my actions
and the actions of the other white children
turned beautiful dreams
into terrifying nightmares
