Sonia Rodrigues

We were born
here on these hills
Our fences the river
out there in front of us
the cliffs behind us
The grasses feed
for our buffalo

When you came
you asked us if you
could fish our streams
We said it is God’s river
The fish are God’s fish
You’re welcome here
if you honor God

Soon your tents
turned into houses
of trees cut in our hills
God’s trees our heritage
The deer and the bear
you killed leaving
the pelts to rot

The river stank
from your refuse
The shore littered with
the bones of your waste
The meadow scorched
by your careless
reckless fires

When we came
to you asking help
in the winter of sickness
you drove us off like wolves
We begged you for food
You turned us away
like savage dogs

“This people honors me with their lips but their hearts are far from me.” ~ Isaiah


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
This entry was posted in free verse, poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Indigenous

  1. nice to see you Peter. We are all tarnished by our own actions…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thanks for the kind word, Maureen . . . I was lost and you looked for me . . . Nice!


  3. could have been spoken by chief joseph – gripping


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