lie of the cape

In my little town, on my little spit, I await full tide.
Here is the place of my longing to be
Salt water courses through my veins,
and I fall asleep at moonrise.
I run with the wolves, and eat what I kill.
Only so many more moons will I see
only so many more children will be taken from me.

We of the land are becoming
sights to see, true natives if we qualify-
protected and coddled, displayed as prize.
Poisoned and reviled, if not,
For the sin of God's gift;
I wish to live.