Posted in Poetry, Thoughtful Poems

Playing Cowboys and Indians, A Poem

I am the child
Among the wild grasses
Playing in the fields
The sun’s rays kiss
My golden wave of hair
And I search the horizon
The hills beyond
Look peaceful now
Under the rising sun
And I spy him there
Above the rocky incline
Atop his beautiful steed
Feather headdress
Blowing in the breeze
He looks majestic
Proud
Brave
He seems to be searching
His eyes count every
Blade of grass
Content smile on his face
Till father runs
To raise his gun
And you see alarm
Anger
And sadness
Slowly, he turns
You can see the grief
In his moves
It is as if he already
Understands what he has lost
Misunderstood
Unappreciated beauty
And I wonder
About him and his people
I – child of the prairie winds
With thoughts that twist in my mind
What was life like before we came?
Does he have children?
How does he live?
And sadly –
Adults never
Ponder these things
They rise in alarm
And grab guns as answers
Plow the lands
That once were his
And they don’t understand
The terrible heartache
Of both man and land
And sadly –
Adults never
Ponder these things
They took his land, it is slowly dying
They killed his children
And he no longer breathes
He is alive, but not living
his legacy –
burned to the ground
Misunderstood
Unappreciated beauty
And we never apologized for our sins.

© Sumyanna 2016