From the 23rd US Poet Laureate, and the first Native American to hold that honor, Joy Harjo is a national treasure.
Here’s a beautiful one from the book, transcribed from The Poetry Foundation.
I was a thought, a dream, a fish, a wing
And then a human being
When I emerged from my mother's river
On my father's boat of potent fever
I carried a sack of dreams from a starlit dwelling
To be opened when I begin bleeding
There's a red dress, deerskin moccasins
The taste of berries made of promises
While the memories shift in their skins
At every moon, to do their ripening
a day ago
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