There’s

There’s smoke coming off the river saying, “Child, all this is your birthright!”
There’s two chiefs, who say every time, I am by the fort, “They hung us, here, son, don’t every forget us!”
There’s these old rocks, telling me, “We saw it all, take us with you!”
There’s this cry heard by those yet, to be born, who hear me, “Love, my home, as you love your family!” 1.19.2020 Strong Buffalo