Author Joaquin Miller An Indian woman cautious creptAbout the land the while it slept,The relic of her perished race.She wore rich, rudely-fashioned bandsOf gold above her bony hands;She hissed hot curses on the place! Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments