Linda Hogan The Red Part · Linda Hogan The Red Part When I was a girl The old women told me if I...
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CIMARRON REVIEW 11 LINDA HOGAN e Red Part When I was a girl e old women told me if I were always generous I could paint a part in the middle of my hair with red. Red ochre. Red paint. Red lipstick. But it seemed not right to reveal to the world that I am generous, because the announcement takes it back. So unlike other girls, I appeared selfish and ungiving although I gave so much away, but who would ever know. I think of the many red parts, the parting of the sea by Moses who was leading his people in a never-ending story, the parting in the red stem of the plant for healing bad lungs, the parting of the heart when one side works with and against the other and the veins in their miles flow back again and again. But the red part I recall the most had to do with generosity, and then our giving up the taken land again and again to those who so wanted it. We parted with our clothing, our children, and on our way we left the red part of a blood trail
Transcript of Linda Hogan The Red Part · Linda Hogan The Red Part When I was a girl The old women told me if I...
c i m a r r o n r e v i e w 11
L i n d a H o g a n
The Red Part
When I was a girlThe old women told me if I were always generousI could paint a part in the middle of my hair with red.Red ochre. Red paint. Red lipstick.But it seemed not rightto reveal to the worldthat I am generous, because the announcement takes it back.So unlike other girls,I appeared selfish and ungivingalthough I gave so much away,but who would ever know.
I think of the many red parts,the parting of the seaby Moses who was leading his peoplein a never-ending story, the parting in the red stemof the plant for healing bad lungs,the parting of the heartwhen one side works with and against the otherand the veins in their milesflow back again and again.
But the red part I recall the mosthad to do with generosity, and thenour giving up the taken land again and againto those who so wanted it. We parted with ourclothing, our children, and on our waywe left the red partof a blood trail
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across the land.It looked like writing that would becomethe book coming nextor afterus.
