If I could dress a little more

"I'm-not-from-here-ish,"

Maybe you could understand 

How foreign this world of yours

Truly is to me.

But I can't go out to Walmart and buy 

The native dresses I would choose,

And it would be so hard for me

To shoot a deer,

And I've lost the knowledge

My ancestors had

Of how to tan and soften the hide

And stitch it up to fit me right.

I've lost the knowledge of how to live and die.

I have one dress that my great grandmother wore.

It fit her through many stages of life,

And it seems to fit me now.

I only saw her once without it.

She took it off and folded it and laid it on the end of her bed.

She walked outside naked into the front yard and sat underneath an old oak tree.

She said she would die there.

She told us all goodbye.

She had been diagnosed with cancer.

And the next day she was dead.

I save this dress for a rainy day.

Or maybe when they tell me 

I'm going to die,

I'll put on and go outside,

And find that oak tree

And pray I find the happy hunting/ dancing grounds

Of my great grandmother.

-jenn