When I was 14,
I joined a tribe in Central Asia.
I stayed briefly with the Turkmen,
traveled the area, but stayed
with the Kyrgyz.
Living together in the yurt, I loved
them, raising goats and horses, and family.
Flowing, traditional clothing,
language, and beautiful women.
I briefly considered the Berbers
in North Africa,
Bedouin, of the Middle East,
desert and tents, still raising goats.
But I loved living with the Kyrgyz,
until I was captured by Native Americans.
They took me to the Great Plains,
and great peace,
along the Rocky Mountains,
riding horses and hunting Buffalo,
I loved the lodges, painting symbols,
camp fires cooking meat.
The Cheyenne, Lakota,
Crow, Arapaho, and the Nez Perce.
Loving the people and their ways,
I studied the maps for hours,
sent to me,
from the National Geographic Society,
it was 1972.
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