CROATAN

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We are the novices to the
New World
Intoxicated with the hopes of
it blowing up for us; we are
dreaming balloons

Wooden bed scrapes the earth,
Infidels inconspicuous of forbidden
land,
screw the puritans and their stained handkerchiefs
No reason to speculate
blind to what happens next
A broken magnifying glass
lies in the grass
Dead rabbit in a tree
Tea leaves drinking the dew

Our webbed feet
graze over
 Mother Earth's
  flesh,
skinned and shamed...infected

       Something roams
      this air
Someone is coming
We have not been spared,

O' mother, O' father, O' Roanoke
sap bleeds from every tree
coiled spirits
on the branch
above me
I scribble mystery
on this
   bark
Inscrutable is my last design
  save us- no one comes


These words fill the empty

One by one
one and for all
We are less than flesh
More than ghosts
Nothing but shells for  the Yielding
Sliced webbed hands
A pact with Wind, split water of skin
Now we breathe coal.