By: Jan Gero French pastel candies in her hand offered to much younger beauties, we watch her cashmere pink face turn boldly toward the light. At dinner she serves a tureen of wild salmon glowing on her table strewn with falcon feathers, and kind candlelight collected as a girl. It is the eagle's piercing truth - her Cherokee blood will fade into the earth, as Mother Nature folds her into the womb nourishing her as the first baby, emerging each spring, laughing, with the daffodils she loves. |