For Pocahontas Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

The little brown girl turns cartwheels naked
Challenging the ruffian boys to dares:
She is full of life, brave and unashamed
Afraid of no one, immune to tears.

Over and over she tumbles, wrists taut,
Rising and hand-standing from the ground
Then falling - easy mastery in sport -
Palms dirtied and dusted by her own land.

She wheels again upside-down, topsy-turvy:
How can these pantalooned boys prosper here
Their baggy drawers and stockings a mockery
Of freedom, their shifty eyes dull with fear?

But savage dancer kicking up your heels,
You were unaware how sullen progress steals.