 |
| Lucinda Hampton Burke, my Great Great Grandmother |
My people walked on dead men's tracks
With bundles of betrayal on their backs
Forced to this land, harsh and unknown
In the dusty dark plains, they made their homes,
Braced against bitter terse winds
Dignified Indigenous begin again.
Steel grey skeletons of timber stands
Rolling green and jagged lands
Past wrongs cannot be right
Survive, overcome, yet live to fight!
The seasons pass, and time wears away
The green prairie grasses bend to pray
Creeks run high and hopes hang low
Broken towns filled with rotting homes
Weathered barns and rundown farms
Rez cars and cowboy bars.
Black walnut, red cedar, and evergreen pines
Sing songs of our ancestors' joyous times.
Shining brightly under Father Sun
Our Chahta Spirit carries on.
