I don't look on poetry as closed works. I feel they're going on all the time in my head and I occasionally snip off a length.
The white man is very clever. He came quietly and peaceably with his religion. We were amused at his foolishness and allowed him to stay. Now he has won our brothers, and our clan can no longer act like one. He has put a knife on the things that held us together and we have fallen apart.