the last sunday of march

the last sunday of march

by this battered marker

a first nations family brought light

though it was once much darker

and i can’t help but wonder

why out of all places

they chose the trail of tears

and took photos with smiling faces

this sign is remembrance

of unthinkable pain

when land that they loved

became their chains

america has a history

of unspeakable deeds

and though they continue

that family refused to concede

it reminded me of another horror

because though water is life

we took their land out of greed

and laid pipelines with no strife

water is life.

oil is death.


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