The Statues of the Land Are Weeping
The Statues of the Land are Weeping
The statues of the land are weeping
weeping in Dakota hills
for all the blameless dead.
The bald eagle cries out still
with Native blood on his head.
Vultures devour what remains
of a people’s civilization,
the tears of many nations.
The statues of the land are weeping
weeping on the National Mall
for years of bondage and scorn.
Ebony royalty torn from home
as Cape Verde winds still mourn
slavery's subtle savagery,
legal lynching strategy.
The statues of the land are weeping
weeping over Hudson skies
upon a bedrock of lies.
Tears drop from cement eyes.
Immigrants who came for freedom
soon found this on demise,
deportation on the rise.
The statues of the land are weeping
weeping from a country's pain,
from wars and human freedoms lost.
Their sightless eyes know not the cost,
but tears run from them just the same.
The statues of the land are weeping
from "sea to shining sea,''
weeping from a people's pleading
for justice and equality.
10/27/17
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