The basement cell where Geronimo was sometimes kept br Had an uneven floor, said to be caused by his constant pacing. br I too pace the walls inside my mind, for it seems to be holding me br Though sometimes I can escape it, through imagination. br br There are large boulders and remnants of pottery br Scattered throughout many places, proof of others, br Whose prisons were diverse times; long ago settlements, br Of names now forgotten or scarcely mentioned anymore. br br The people were always less durable than soil or stone: br They flowed like liquid from area to area, seeking water, buffalo, prosperity. br Children were their true riches, and longevity their blessing; br If you didn't die in childbirth, you might live a long time. br br I feel their artifacts all around me, half-buried in clay and sand; br Many years are like only a moment, to a planet one-sixth the age br Of the total universe. But the past haunts me, watching as it does, br From the eyes of all their children, still walking this earth.