DO BISON CRY?

July 19, 2017

DO BISON CRY?

Wind daggers and ice splinters hit my eyes, no tears

Face glistens from morning dew

I blink

Trample down prairie grasses

Rain scarce on the prairie

Once we were stalked and hunted one at a time

Part of a ritual

Each human brought a prayer and pact

Wanderers

Families searched

For a way to survive harsh winters

We Bison, like them, held vigil

So, I gave my life when life was near the end

I traded it for a young girl’s dream, a way to search for her lost family

We looked at each other as she remained with me my last night

Her family, neither hoarded nor stored more than needed for the next season

The chief of our herd and of their tribe communed for days before the decision

Not taken lightly

Not boasted about

And so it went for ten thousand years

Until another tribe moved across the land

Desires of order

A way to control Natures Destiny

Of Storms and Famine and Chaos

And abundance

And so

Piled skulls on the prairie

Eye holes

Bleached white

Stories high

Sky scrapers