BROTHER CONDOR
By
Chief Swift Eagle

I weep for my brother who cannot fly.
Not because his wings aren't broad enough,
Or his back strong enough to support his body in flight.

I weep for my brother Condor.
My tears fall because his entire species is held captive.
Less than 50 do they now number.
Even their eggs are stolen and held captive.

I weep for my little brothers and sisters--
The chicks of prisoners,
Raised by wooden mothers who coo not,
And feel not, nor feed from loving beak.

I weep for my brothers who were born to be free,
Who must walk and hop instead of soaring above peaks.
Their sky is now measured by the height of a zoo,
Where the clouds are netted and the sky is not blue.

I weep for my brother who longs to be free.
Set my brothers free or at least weep with me.

Copyrights 1991 - All Rights Reserved

Return Poetry Index