In the land so arid and dry,
Where the sun beats down from high,
Lived ancient people long ago,
Who adapted to this desert flow.
They built their homes with adobe clay,
Pit houses dug deep in the earth to stay,
And kivas for prayer and ceremony,
Where they honored ancestors' memory.
Pueblo villages dotted the land,
Homes clustered together, a tight-knit band,
With artifacts and tools they crafted by hand,
To thrive in this prehistoric land.
Petroglyphs etched in stone,
Pictographs painted on walls unknown,
Telling stories of their way of life,
Of hunting, gathering, and strife.
These ancient people knew the land,
And how to live off it, hand in hand,
Their legacy lives on today,
In the art and wisdom they left on display.
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