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ROCK EAGLE ALICE WALKER In the town where I was born There is a mound Some five feet high That from the ground Seems piled up stones In Georgia Insignificant But from above The lookout tower Floor an eagle widespread in solid gravel Stone Takes shape Below The Cherokees raised it Long ago Before westward journeys In the snow Before the National Policy slew Long before Columbus knew I used to stop and Linger there Within the cleanswept tower stairs Rock Eagle pinesounds Rush of stillness Lifting up my hair Pinned to the earth The eagle endures The Cherokees are gone The people come on tours And on surrounding National Forest lakes the air rings With cries The silenced make Wearing cameras They never hear But relive their victory Every year And take it home With them Young Future Farmers As paleface warriors Grub Live off the land Pretend Indian, therefore Man Can envision a lake But never a flood On earth So cleanly scrubbed of blood They come before the rock Jolly conquerors They do not know the rock They love Lives and is bound To bide it time To wrap its stony wings Around The innocent eager 4-H Club. 367