(I wrote this poem originally for the Metro "Poetry Bus" submission in Seattle. However, since writers could only submit one poem, and this one would most likely offend and not be published for an obvious reason, (because it is blatantly truthful), I decided to share my poem on this site instead. I also drew on inspiration form a previous poem that I submitted on this site).

A glint of silver cars, chariots,
sockeye swimming upstream.

High rises grow where towering
cedar once stood.

Chief Seattle's legacy now a hip city.
From Alki to Licton Springs,
do the Ancients breathe the last prophecy?

Manifest Destiny--not a dream we share.

(dedicated to the ancestor of the Pacific Northwest).