The golden-crowned sparrows' song of lament
Serenades our city all winter long I meant
To write more, to study, meter and rhyme
But in an unnamed oak knoll nearby I'm
Listening to voices of wind venting
Out loud over ten thousand years spent
"No Gold Here" the bird sings each time
For spring he leaves again no longer mine.
"No Gold Here" why then did priests beat bent
Backs of savages and try to kill all beasts?
Muwekma, Yelamu, and Petlenuk:
So little said of such atrocities - I heard her
Idle No More of roots, seeds, salmon feasts.
Muwekma, Yelamu, and Petlenuk:
I remember crow gives birth to thunder!
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