A STRAY ARROWA Poem by Betty HermeleeNative Americans fight for territoryElder chief, a peaceful man who puffs on his pipe and hums at seasonal celebrations spends days in his tepee he is worshiped by his tribe like a protective God wrinkled and in poor health he lays in a deep slumber on and off and often dreams that his only son is summoned to fight war with foreign tribes the chief perceives he is a trained warrior yet always fears the worst he is a man of peace villainous natives loom close by threatening his large reservation insisting they own a piece of it
Battles persist for months warriors on horses’ shout orders to their peers bearing their bows and arrows determined to win arrows whizz by them, flying like bats they retaliate and aim for the evil chief and his two cohorts young son pierces the chest of one his blood boils and his anger peaks so that he deftly punctures the bodies of more enemy warriors
at once silence permeates the sanguinary scene most of the enemy warriors die or suffer bloody wounds horses lay on muddy earth, heads and limbs scattered guts spill out, low level whines echo to the sky one more stray arrow flies by and strikes the chief’s young son in his chest bleeding and struggling for life, he seizes his last breath
The chief awakens with a startle, droplets on his cheeks only a dream he recalls, then summons his son for the celebration dances under the stars with drums and flutes they inspire to a tribal beat singing to the sun God, they shriek and whistle the chief follows them with a gold tooth smile
© 2024 Betty HermeleeAuthor's Note
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15 Reviews Added on February 14, 2024 Last Updated on February 14, 2024 AuthorBetty HermeleeBlack Mountain, NCAboutMy love of poetry results from my love of art. As a painter I am able to express myself on a canvas. As a poet my words come from my heart, my moods, sometimes sad, mostly upbeat. I like to use vivid .. more..Writing
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