Can you show a poem Century Quilt by Marilyn Nelson?
My sister and I were in lovewith Meema's Indian blanket.We fell asleep under army greenissued to Daddy by Supply.When Meema came to live with usshe brought medicines, her cane,and the blanket I found on my sister's bedthe last time I visited her.I remembered how I'd planned to inheritthat blanket, how we used to wrap ourselvesat play in its folds and be chieftainsand princesses.Now I've found a quiltI'd like to die under;Six Van Dyke brown squares,two white ones, and one squarethe yellowbrown of Mama's cheeks.Each square holds a sweet gum leafwhose fingers I imaginewould caress me into the silence.I think I'd have good dreamsfor a hundred years under this quilt,as Meema must have, under her blanket,dreamed she was a girl again in Kentuckyamong her yellow sisters,their grandfather's white familynodding at them when they met.When their father came home from his storethey cranked up the pianolaand all of the beautiful sistersgiggled and danced.She must have dreamed about Mamawhen the dancing was over:a lanky girl trailing after her fatherthrough his Oklahoma field.I'd dream of myself,of my childhood of miracles,of my father's burnt umber pride,my mother's ochre gentleness.Within the dream of myselfperhaps I'd meet my sonor my other child, as yet unconceived.I'd call it The Century Quilt,after its pattern of leaves.from Mama' Promises by Marilyn Nelson Waniek 1985