Assimilate

by

Chris Lahren

From the ghostly howl of the storm,
from the insane stobe-light fury of thunder
and torrential sheets of black rain.
I walk casually into it's thick fist.
and in it's foreground are two trunkless
legs of rock bearing callous words

of my past. They came here cautiously
in the face of adversity. They were tongueless

and awkward with a passion to overcome.
They spoke or read no language of the land.

They farmed and fed this soil with their souls
for nearly a century,

until my birth...

I lost their language, I lost their land

and these rocks are all that stand.

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