We could not understand
what they went through,
incomprehensible. We were blind.
More than just the land was stolen,
we stole their food, their clothing,
their children’s language, gone,
their dignity, who they were as people,
destroyed with a hammer, and a shovel,
digging graves, looking for gold,
the Mississippi River giving up the ghost,
shadows blocking the sun.
what would Chief Joseph say
about the casinos?
Poetry © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree