Saturday, December 18, 2010

Rita Joe

Your Buildings
Your buildings, tall and alien,
Cover the land;
Unfeeling concrete smothers,
windows glint
Like water to the sun.
No breezes blow
Through standing trees;
No scent of pine lightens my burden.
I see your buildings rising skyward,
Over the trails where once men walked,
Significant rulers of this land
Who still hold the aboriginal title
In their hearts.

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