placed in a grave
beside a flowing river
i come to you

soul shining bright
blue eyes sparking
you make me laugh

alone together
your charm invites
memories overflowing

i know not where you are
but here beside me
is where you are i come

Unknown, it says on the grave
and certainly,
your lives are unknown to us.

These trees remember
when this was your home
before disease and arrogance
pushed you aside.

You have disappeared,
but the land does not forget
the imprints of your moccasins.

You walked softly along
the same ridge path
we use today.

You knew and loved this salt air
long before we laid claim
to this spot of earth.

The rivers carry your names,
Necanicum and Nehalem.
The word Clatsop still lives.

I would love to sit by a fire
and hear your stories
of generations on this land.

There are whispers that
some of you survived,
but for now

This grave
is the only reminder of
how much has been forgotten.

Brown mother, face laughing,
Lifts you up to show the sky!
Little man, what will come?
What will happen in your life?

Dark eyes, so shining,
Smile so broad it lifts the heart!
Such a one will be a warrior,
Or a sage of great renown.

Handsome face, and strong,
Surely meant for better things!
Life is good and ripe with promise,
Love is waiting, just unseen.

Pleasure calls, and city lights,
Wine and women, sweet and strong!
Work undone and money ending,
Just wait another little while.

A “good Indian?” What good are you?
I can show you who is boss!
Go back to the reservation,
Where your kind of man belongs.

Dark eyes, so dull and empty,
Hope has gone and shame has come,
Go seek the peace of mother’s love,
Well, one more day, then maybe home.

Home? Where is my home?
The man, afraid, can not recall,
So he stays and grows more weary,
Drinks and cries and fights and falls.

One dark day, in winter lonely,
In a room alone and still,
The warrior dies with no one watching,
Only known to others gone.

Send him to hix next of kin
Surely someone knows him still?
Send him to the reservation,
Where they will remember him.

The mother and the father too,
Grown old with years of waiting,
Have died and left no one at home,
No one who waits or watches.

The baby with the shining eyes,
Smile broad and face so strong,
He has gone and is forgotten,
Buried now, he is Unknown.

My corpse was found,
I lied alone;
I’m now unbound,
my soul unknown.

I lied alone,
you were not near;
my soul unknown,
my life unclear.

You were not near,
two weeks, then quit;
my life unclear,
got rid of it.

Two weeks, then quit,
had some time left,
got rid of it,
my heart bereft.

Had some time left,
I’m now abound;
my heart bereft,
my corpse was found.