Poet, writer.
In 2013, Luci Tapahonso was named poet laureate of the Navajo Nation. She is the author of three children’s books and six books of poetry, including A Radiant Curve, which was awarded the Arizona Book Award for Poetry in 2009. She is professor of English Literature and Language at the University of New Mexico.
Tapahonso’s work has appeared in many print and media productions in the U.S. and internationally. She was featured in Rhino Records’ CDs, “In Their Own Voices: A Century of American Poetry” and “Poetry on Record: 98 American Poets Read Their Work” and in several PBS films.
Tapahonso received the 2006 Lifetime Achievement award from the Native Writers Circle of the Americas and a Spirit of the Eagle Leadership Award for her key role in establishing the Indigenous Graduate Studies Program at the University of Kansas. The Native Writers Circle of the Americas named Tapahonso the 1999 Storyteller of the Year. She has also received a Kansas Governor’s Art Award, and Distinguished Woman awards from the National Association of Women. Lucy Tapahonso’s participation in Tbilisi International Literature Festival is supported by U.S. Embassy in Georgia.
After Noon In Yooto
The Santa Fe afternoon is warm and bright.
The dogs are delirious to be outdoors; they prance about,
panting loudly.
“Simmer down, guys,” I say.
They don’t have to wear jackets today.
Once my husband said they were embarrassed
to wear jackets.
“I never saw an embarrassed dog.” I said. He just smiled.
A few months ago on another warm afternoon,
my mother sat on the comfortable old couch
in the front of the woodstove.
The stove is in the center of the house where it is
dim and cool.
After straightening the kitchen, I sat beside her.
“Uh,” I said leaning against her. This means
“Tell me stories,”
or, “tell me what’s going on.”
“T'áá 'ákódí. That’s all,” she said. We both laughed.
I adjusted the pillow behind her head as she leaned back.
I slipped my hand into hers and leaned against her.
Her hands are warm and thin.
Unlike mine, she has slim, elegant fingers.
She patted my hand and we were silent.