My grandmothers gave me songs to heal
But the white man buys me cheap without song or word.
My dead children appear and I play with them.
Ridge of time in my grief — remembering
Who will claim the ruins? and the graves? the corn maiden violated
As the land?
I am a child in my eroded dust.
I remember feathers of the hummingbird
And the virgin corn laughing on the cob.
Maize defend me
Prairie wheel around me
I run beneath the guns and the greedy eye
And hurricanes of white faces knife me.
But like fox and smoke I gleam among the thrushes
And light your streets.