I walk the land
the forest, the soil, the sand

I see the marks of man
fields, roads, and dams

I wonder how it was before
my father, grandfather and more

With work, sweat and back sore
shaped it to grow crops galore

Generations made this sprawl
wider than a crows call

I lean down and find an arrowhead
and without gall
realize this land isn't ours after all