Culture
culture
I stand at the curve of the Platte
west of Fort Laramie
behind me the limestone rock
intersects the great trail
still carrying in the scars of the wagon wheels
across from where the flowing river makes a turn
behind the tall grass
a century removed
two young boys
eyes wide in amazement
at the solemn procession of white people
pushing dragging carrying all that is theirs
wearing down the earth where it doesn’t yield
I see them rushing to tell their fathers
who nod solemnly
they already know
perplexed and amused at this parade of white people
they leave to follow the buffalo
moving light and fast
lifting their dead to the sky
so that their souls will be light and fast
their souls will soon be all that is left
as the white man pulls his wagons
drags his freedom
and buries his dead across America
the red man watches
not knowing that this relentless courageous amusing procession
will soon bury them
I stand at the curve of the Platte
a white man
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