AZ

I'm in the Chinle grocery store, "Bashas'."
A little Navajo girl is staring at me,
Wide eyed with curiosity,
And I am as alien as can be--
White male with jean shorts,
Baby blue collared shirt and sandals.
I don't mind her looking.
For once in my life I feel foreign.
I see the only other white people in the store
And feel some sort of camaraderie,
Even though they seem a bit country,
They are young and pretty and I feel an affinity.
 I can't imagine what it must be like
To swim in a sea of white faces as another ethnicity,
Though I can catch a snippet floating through Chinle.
This is Navajo country--hogan next to a coke machine,
Type 2 diabetes.  I fear I sound condescending or judgmental,
 And I may very well be, I am an outsider inside the United States,
This is a very new thing for me.  I'm from cul-de-sacs and gardens
And worrying about what you eat, all well and good if you have that liberty.
I don't really know how to end this, all I know is I'm on vacation
And even the regular half and half had, 'less than 1%,' hydrogenated oil,
And I can tell where it began because I'm white, and they're on a reservation
With over 20 varieties of artificial creamers and the little girl is just staring at me
As I read the ingredients and settle for goat's milk for my coffee,
Because the ingredients just say, 'goat's milk and vitamin D.'