While We Speed Through Monument Valley

a Navajo woman walks slowly behind her sheep,
aided by walking stick and dog,

a long, brilliant, Southwest pink skirt,
bright white shirt and hat,

I imagine her skin to be like the weathered rocks
a story,
there is something in her walk,

deliberate, unpaced

the way she walks
shows things I don’t understand,

I see the things I know about
do not matter

I see I know nothing.