My Brother

I do not know him, this Peltier man.
I have heard of him.
I heard white voices.

"He's just a troublemaking injun."
"He oughtta hang."
"He's guiltier than hell, I can tell by lookin' at him."
"Put him out of everyone's misery, just shoot him."
"Just a no good drunken indian, like the rest of them."

I wondered at these voices.
These people did not know him, either.
They had only just heard of him.

I still do not know him, this Peltier man.
I have heard much and learned much about him.
I have heard the truth of his innocence in many voices.
And although I do not know him,
I ache for his freedom as though
He were my Brother.


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