Buffalo Moon
«Steve Dickson »
They danced by the
pale moonlight
Called to spirits of
the past
To bring the herds
back to them
Thus ending harsh
winter’s fast
Thunder runs on the prairie
As they top the
furthest rise
So vast in countless
numbers
Woolly treasure for
dark eyes
Taking just what was needed
No such thing to them
as waste
Gave thanks to the
Creator
Simple life not ruled
by haste
Every year they came back strong
‘Til the time when
great beasts fell
When strangers came
in shooting
Left a rotting
stinking hell
Foolish men just took the hides
Left the carcass in
the sun
People gazed in agony
At the evil that was
done
Gone now from golden prairies
So few ever to return
Slaughtered and
forgotten now
No good lesson did
men learn
I saw an old man crying
Once not very long
ago
As he remembered
seeing
All those bodies in
the snow
Ghosts and bones are scattered now
In the places once
called home
Rare now are the
buffalo
Where vast millions
once did roam
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