Healing Gila

for The People The people don't mention it much. It goes without saying, it stays without saying— that concentration camp on their reservation. And they avoid that massive site as they avoid contamination— that massive void punctuated by crusted nails, punctured pipes, crumbled failings of foundations . . . What else is there to say? This was a lush land once, graced by a gifted people gifted with the wisdom of rivers, seasons, irrigation. The waters went flowing through a network of canals in the delicate workings of balances and health . . . What else is there to say? Then came the nation. Then came the death. Then came the desert. Then came the camp. But the desert is not deserted. It goes without saying, it stays without saying— wind, spirits, tumbleweeds, pain.