moss mottles granite domes, witnesses
who saw, briefly, transition from those
living sympathetically with them, to 
those who did not. this briefness, 
infinitesimally short for those aged
rocks, bluffs, mountains, witnessed
a people living both in, out of sync. 
Wabanaki warred alongside them,
these demonymic defenders 
soon to be abandoned. where to
go? now flung far, to bayou, to
lakes, to pockets 'back home,'
adapting, not assimilating. 
granite domes remember such
as these, pay them brief homage.

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75/100
100 poems in 100 days
Seventy-five percent!!!