Naich’ee

Born across the river,

Raised on Apach’ee land,

Given a birth certificate at age two,

The name of one deceased,

Global citizen,

Tribal Registry,

Of Yacqi birth,

Deported.

Awaiting new documents,

A new name,

A new birth.

Hope in his eyes,

Strength in his features,

Art in his hands and mind,

Plans for a future,

Traveling lands native to ancestors,

Crossing borders drawn by colonists,

Living among peoples still subjected by arbitrary rules.

Whose is the land?

Whose ancestors matter most?

How do we define human?

Whom do we still consider savages without a soul?

Is a piece of paper of greater value than one who uses paper, wields a brush, brings something new to life?

The paper lived once.

What of those seeking to live right now?



10/18/2025,
Somewhere in Arizona airspace

©Copyright 2025, Christopher B. Harbin 



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