Sugaring-Off In Maine

122 the minnesota review Page Coulter Sugaring-Off In Maine A chemical imbalance has driven all wives naked to the sea. They sun in geometric patterns, like swans, or like designs on kitchen floors, leaving behind them thousands of buckets dangling helplessly from the maples. The wives think about when they were Indians, Kiowa, Uplala, or Ritwan, their feathered prayer sticks and water drums. They think about wooden digging sticks, tobacco and gourds and wild foods. As they run, they coil their hair in large whorls to symbolize the squash blossom. The sugar houses spew white steam, as the syrup thickens. Gathering momentum, the wives run like pieces of seaweed caught in undertow. The Great Spirit calls them to the harbor where soon they will be hunting for clay to mold a flat-nosed woman with stone beads, brown breasts, tiny feet, who cares only for the dog she holds and for her child. ...