There is a portrait of an Indian girl
that hangs slightly crooked in my living room.
It fits nicely between my television,
and the large framed window
that peers over the snow peaked houses.
I wonder if maybe she would look better
next to the bookshelf,
where she can keep watch over
the others who try to escape
their veneered, hardwood walls.
Who would give her the most trouble?
Tom Sayer, who would trick her
into painting her thin, brown frame white,
or Captain Ahab and his tired
stories of “great” white whales?