Feet pounding on the hard packed earth
In time to the drums and singing
Moving intricately
Fire burning so high
Lighting the night sky
High pitched cries
Yelps and shouts
And the people dance
Calling to the buffalo
Imitating their movements
Their mating
Calling upon the spirit of the buffalo
Graze the plains
Lay down upon our spears
As we take your last breath as our own
Dancing again to thank the spirits for blessing our clan
Smoke filled sky
Sage burning
Buffalo roasting
Feet pounding on the hard packed earth
To the beat of the drums

Now I am hungry, Guess I'll head to the kitchen and make something.

:)

G

been a long time since I've had a bufalo steak...

good poem here Poet

good one girly!! this one has to make that book!!!

Great Poet. As already Stated this one has to make the book.

I really like this one too...you are in touch with the ancestors.