KEEPERS OF THE MOUND Where are they, my brothers, the Keepers of the Mound? Many moons have gone since I have heard their voices, And the chanting songs of the Calusa. My bones rest uneasy in this mound of shell, And my restless spirit finds no peace, For it must remain to gard my gave Until my brothers retr, the Keepers of the Mound. Fearfl am I, of the pot diggers and the gave robbers. My tomb tembles as shovels thrst into my blanket of buscyon, My spirit weeps at the cries of scaered, sun-bleached shell, As these men desecrate and destoy the secrets of the past. Now, at last, I hear the voices! The y have come, the new Keepers of the Mound! They are not my brothers, the Calusa, But they are the brothers of my hear. My spirit can now soar to the land be yond, For my gave shall be protected and restored And om this day forh, in that geat land be yond, The Calusa will embrace the ne w Keepers of the Mound, Then, the Calusa and the white man shall live together, Tr l y , In an everlasting peace. “Toni Adami Colts, 1986
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