Old FriendsA Poem by Chris BighorseTo all my old friends whom I may never see again:
If you hear of my death go outside and breathe deeply. I will do the same for you. © 2009 Chris BighorseReviews
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5 Reviews Added on February 17, 2009 Last Updated on February 17, 2009 AuthorChris BighorseGovernment Camp, ORAboutI am Navajo. My tribe does not call itself that, but the schools I've been to have called us such and the name has stayed. So, to you, I am Navajo. To me, I am Chris. Hopefully, in getting to know.. more..Writing
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