Acoma Pueblo
Acoma Pueblo
My city of stone
My people I cry for you
I looked into our land
Nothing remains
broken hope of years.
You did toil the soil,
your life was grand.
But what could you do,
the waters ran away from you?
Where did those clouds roll?
Not here, you, my people cried
It hurt your very soul
Brown crops dying so
My children where,
now this place has died,
can I find you?
There's no need to hide
You now suffer more so
Pollution is to blame?
The world is not the same,
Now moving is the game.
Do you ever learn from me?
Not much that I can see
Till the day you die
My people will not survive
For comes another
This one more hurtful,
than the dry winds
He will scour your lands
Far deeper than the wind
Much broader than the shear
He will rule over you
It will be his laws that will kill
The Clovis culture
We gave the world a puzzle
Yet great we were in American time
Our tools were of another level
The archaeologists found the sign
Buried as we fell there,
to famine drought or fire
In a new land not seen before
Our weapons opened another door
They dated us in pre history time
The sphinx in Egypt
Would have smiled if he knew
That I played with bows and arrows
As he watched over you
But what of those great sailors
Saying they'd found new lands
Did they not see us standing there
With our weapons in our hands
They returned talking of our land,
Something for their empires plan
It would have been better for all,
had we welcome them to our shore
Copyright © Ian Howard | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment