wampum
a word pulling forth a memory of squatting
close to the earth marveling at a small shell in my
childish palm, a tiny disk I could hold up to my innocent
eye, squinting through to see into the past
when a young Indian girl milled this tiny hole
into the shell with a simple tool, so precious
to her and to me, that I placed it in my pocket,
forgotten,
where it survived countless washings and dryings
until a childish hand reached inside to find it again
to marvel and remember and forget
until today
where traders swarm towards gold, the
new wampum.
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