AMONG THE SAND DUNES
A family, dressed in deerskins,
carry sticks. Across the sand dunes,
they advance like spirits from a trance.
"Shoshone," a scout, hidden among rocks, grins,
as his finger points toward the band,
"searching for the Ghost Dance."
Never fought with Washington,
never thought life would end in trickery.
Dreams caught in ghosts skins
hidden in ripples of heat
that rise above the barren mounds
we know to be our home.
We are invincible when they kill us.
We are invisible even as we die
to live amongst you like whispers
in the sky.
--
C.S. Cholas
1983
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