Trail of Tears

Homage to the first Americans.

Once proud

We raised our children

We watched them grow

Like cornstalks

With their own fruit to bear.

 

The wind carried dreams

Through grass and poplar groves

 

Once brave

We hunted brother bison

His death was sacred

The fire dance

Defending home with life

 

A new wind blows

From the East, across the plains

Once angry

With tomahawks ablaze

We painted our death masks

Fighting the thieves

And running for shelter

 

The wind has died

Death’s spore hangs in stagnation

 

Once afraid

As all we loved, lost

Stripped of freedom and life

Caged and tormented

Driven from home

 

A white wind pushes

Us to lands across the turtle

 

Once weary

Feet raw, bellies empty

On dried, sterile land we lived

Broken and lost

The victim they called devil

 

The wind carries

Only the memory of honor and pride

 

Eternally sad

Our ways lost, or abandoned

Our families scattered or worse

Who are we, now

The lost children of the Great Spirit

 

The wind fills the tracks

On our lonely trail of tears

 

 

Reviews

[Holly Mason]

nice to read our families scattered or worse...like the thought thanks for the write