Totem

Strangler fig has a firm grasp
On the palmetto, like some
Very slow-moving python.
Outside the park ranger’s house
A giant plastic inflatable snow globe
Presents Santa and Frosty beneath an endless blizzard.
“Let It Snow!” the globe proclaims
On humid mornings, rainy afternoons
In the Everglades.

Outside the Micosukee Indian restaurant
Are two odd totem poles, black, yellow, red
Looking like Pacific Northwest thunderbirds
With a lot of teeth
Or alligators with stiff wings.
Inside, the usual, fry bread, tribal cops, unsweetened ice tea
And the lady waiting for take-out
Her t-shirt emblazoned PUBLIC ENEMY.

I also put things together
That don’t belong together:
Vitamins, and the tree snail shell
From Thailand,
The Indian doll in necklace and bead earrings
Purple rickrack on her yellow dress,
the potted poinsettia, the menorah
Of tea lights arranged on an upside-down
Baking pan.
And the photographs
Of what is beyond my screened porch—
Tangled lianas, bay islands
All untitled, simply toned silver print
As if it were best
To simply look.