Ghost Dance

Two hundred seventy Ghost Dancers died dreaming That humanity would drown In a flood of White sins. Then the renewed earth Would reclaim city and town, Leaving only Ghost Dancers And those who lived by nature’s laws. History books say the threat is gone. The Ghost Dance died with the ancestors— Wovoka and his sacred dream Were destroyed. Each time it rains, I go out to the sidewalk, Where the tree roots Have broken the concrete Listening to the water’s whispering: “It is coming soon.”