For the first to live here


We have glorified your culture, yet left you cold, dry lands,
infertile soil we once pushed you in to (at gunpoint and lies).
We have knelt at the altar of your beauty
and imagine it defines you,
accepted your healing gifts and failed
to fight for you, even now.
“I am sorry” echoes through the nothing.





After watching the movie Little House on the Prairie, my son asked if things are better for Native Americans now, if we have made up for our abuses, set things right, apologized through deeds as well as words. What could I say? I told him the truth.

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