The promise is an illusion.
A mirage and slight of hand by hucksters
who wish to direct your blood, your toil for their glory.
There is land. You can take it. Or occupy it.
The land will tolerate you.
It lives unaware of your map lines and registered claims.
Those people who arrived first
used the same tools for ownership:
freedom, beauty, sacredness, sacrifice and ceremony.
Those tools may not look exactly like yours,
but at the heart of the matter
they are exactly like yours.
The rabbitbrush does not care for you
as you plant maize and beans.
Nor do the rabbits displaced by your plows.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney
