Brigitte Murphy

Heart of Appalachians

Appalachians, do you echo the hearts
of Indians, their loss, destruction and death.
A prayer is uttered by the shimmering grass.
No one listens, but God who holds his breath.

Chanting without words, singing without notes,
the rocks reverberate the nothingness
of the silenced lives of the lonely ghosts.
Canyons and prairie echo emptiness.

Where have the campfires and the dancing gone
where the proud horses, the roaming bison
and the warrior with his feathers that shone?
They had no constraints but the horizon.

Lying in the grass, remembering their pain,
prayers rising from the Appalachian chain.


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