Cries from the Tomb
(Savaged)

“The wide land which is now yours, was ours.
Friendly hands have given us back enough for a tomb.”
-Carl Sandburg, The People

The children are weeping
For the land burning before them
They are weeping for the forests
That will never again hear their secrets
For the voices screaming
Scattering the ashes of our lives
Into the arms of the Great Spirit

The women are weeping
For the daughters
Ripped from their arms
And savaged
As they watch through tears
With mourning doves
Remnants of the sparrow's song on their lips

The men are weeping
Their blood smeared on the fallen cherry trees
Heads turned sideways in torched fields
Hair coiled around bluebells
Their bodies dancing within sagebrush

The Great Spirit is weeping
Cleansing the burnt bodies of our brothers and sisters
Offering barren stomachs and throats comfort
Cooling the lashes on our backs

The Great Spirit is warning them
Anger cutting through the blackness above
Reprimands pounding the land
Like the hooves of the ireful horses behind us

Warnings ignored,
They capture every piece,
Every fragment
Of our lives
Leaving only these tears on the trail
Which will echo for eternity
Across the desolate land
Slowly becoming our tomb.

-For all my ancestors who were forced to walk the trail and name it with their tears.