We are old enough to know better by now,
twelve thousand years from the Crescent
and counting. We stood and we looked
God dead in the eye, and then we grew
taller still. And still
something in my blood recalls
the tall-grass escape
to the tops of trees,
to plot on prey
and enemies-
I remain a sharpened spear.
twelve thousand years from the Crescent
and counting. We stood and we looked
God dead in the eye, and then we grew
taller still. And still
something in my blood recalls
the tall-grass escape
to the tops of trees,
to plot on prey
and enemies-
I remain a sharpened spear.