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Anasazi and Hohokam
 - by Bob Atkinson

tell me now your ancient stories
so I can feel your power and glory
survive you did in this harsh land
becoming a mystery to this small man

where did you go? are you still here?
tell me of your wants and fears
buildings you made of stone
still stand above piles of bones

did you lay down your lives
to the last because of pride
fighting those opposed
to your ancient way of life

over this land of dusty valleys
swept clean of life as if by water
you carved out of rocky soil
life for your sons and daughters


of those who lived those years
we know nothing more
we see them scraped from the land
was it peaceful or violent horror?


you who no longer sing
those songs of glory days
left us remnants of your cities
to remind us of your closed page


confers to us our wonderment
never allowing our minds rest
where and why did you go?
reason won't be known, but guessed

you knew how to test the ground
dug canals, brought water to dry land
giving seed to harvest yearly
moisture to crops of greenery

you knew facts that life required
by those who live and thrive
in arid lands which never seem
to allow for relaxed lives


ones who have gone before
left us not stories and lore
they keep their lives from our eyes
made us wonder where and why

let us begin the quest
to document that sixth sense
that which makes us who we are
our emotions pickled in a jar

document your current stories
so future can feel your power and glory
how you survived in this harsh land
become no mystery to future man

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