Hopi
Maiden With Squash-Blossom Hairdress
Awaiting the moment, she lowers her left shoulder,
squares the neck and forehead, as the photographer
edges her with his camera lens to the adobe wall
unnervingly patient, refusing to trip the shutter.
Her body, even hands, hidden by ceremonial dress,
he zeroes in on her face, broad focused eyes
acknowledging no shame, revealing no concessions,
not even to lower, narrow the corners, or blink.
Her determined mouth and jaw, angular cheekbones,
weakening, might have to surrender momentarily
to break a bitter smile, as if lowering a weapon.
Twisted into whirling squash blossoms, her hair
unravels, bows in simple strands, and reconvenes.
Only the birthmark, a tiny cactus, above her nose
remains constant, like a fossil embedded in stone.
Stubborn, the photographer scrutinizes the face,
examining eyelashes brittle as if fire-scorched,
waiting for a slight lowering to signal the end.
At a draw, but gaining, the photographer slips,
sliding his sweating finger across the switch,
capturing the girl almost at her breaking point.
Defiant, the grim traces of a smile on her lips,
fervent brow curled at the edges, nothing more.
Copyright © 2004 Tom Reynolds