Moccasins souls weep for my clotted blood line

I can see my soul leak threw thin strung rawhide

Ancestors famously weep for me in modern time

Struggling to mix me like cheese with cheap wine


Oh grandfather would they release me if knowing of our name

That I have you buried in me like an old Indian game

All roads traveling now bare both our names

Rebecca Rolfe stood on the Appalachians plateau

Allegheny Blue Ridge made her feel more at home


In pink bonnet tall in the evergreen trees

Years following behind the uncovering

Bear fur man on whimpering blood leaves

Stood alone in this American disease


Indian maiden my great grandmother

Bloodlines burned in white hall then covered

Weeding the free from us human beings

White washing redskins in a theater scene


Trying to hold an ancestry name

Present day mother had it changed

Hiding the last of our traveling shame

A century later no more buffalo games


Trails we once blazed now set to graze

In the tiring knot of a red feather tie

How can I lose what I’ve always gained?

A great red and white Indian grandfather’s name



I paint your words onto the clouds great one

Great fire dances are illegal now and can’t reach the sun

 No great spirits are allowed to gather as I am the only one  

So I’ve given the last of our blood to my whiter city son


Fallen Clouds

Of the Human Beings

After him were all gone

Were all done- I coming home!

Oh great one