A short, vivid glimpse of a traditional ceremony, the poem turns a human fiesta into a playful conversation between earth and sky. The speaker watches dancers move to drums, and the sun itself joins in, wearing the same cottonwood boughs on its head and ankles. It’s a joyful, unforced connection — the natural world isn’t just a backdrop but an eager participant. Then the mood softens: the moon enters with quiet grace, stepping “softly / In a turquoise tablita,” the kind of ceremonial headdress worn in Pueblo rituals. The word “softly” matters here — it brings a gentle, respectful hush after the drumming. Finally, the stars become scurrying helpers, running to gather eagle feathers the dancers have dropped. The speaker’s feeling is one of quiet wonder, as if peeking behind the curtain of a sacred moment. The overall mood is both celebratory and hushed, dreamlike yet grounded in real objects — cottonwood, turquoise, feathers — that root the magic in something tangible.
Fiesta — Summary
The sun dances to the drums With Cottonwood boughs On head and ankles.
The moon steps softly In a turquoise tablita.
The stars run to pick up The eagle feathers Dropped by the dancers.