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| Goodbye Roberta Blackgoat by � moon_grace I bow my head to the woman who would not be relocated and instead of weaving cloth, at 84, she picked up pliers and unravelled fences. I bow my head to the woman who would not be relocated and instead of moving into town, at 84, she drove herself in an old pickup truck 33 miles one-way on unpaved roads for water, for phones, for gas, for news of the world. I bow my head to the woman who would not be relocated and instead of telling stories and bemoaning what used to be, at 84, she took up pen and paper and drew out petitions to stop what she thought was wrong with the world around her. I bow my head to the woman whose great-grandparents taught her relocation of Fort Sumner, and at 84, she flung open her doors when history came tapping on her window and she did not hide or falter. She did not lock her door and pretend she was not home. She dug in and worked for what she believed And at 84, She kept these words... "The Creator is the only one that will relocate me." Goodnight, Roberta Blackgoat. moon_grace 4/24/02 |
