Evening glow in the greenhouse

Evening glow in the greenhouse
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Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Diary 12/3/14

Time for another poem. This one is another free verse in that it doesn't have rhyme and it doesn't have official meter, though I think I am having trouble breaking free from traditional phrasing. It can be much more broken up almost like a haiku with lots of lines. Anyway, not to explain too far, this one was for a contest with a picture prompt. The painting was an Native American chief, he had lots of eagle feathers on his head dress and crooked staff, and he looks down trodden as does his horse.

In His Search For The Buffalo  (25 lines)

Once proud, the chief rides in a circle,
Much wider than ever before.
He watches for dust in the distance.
In his search for the buffalo.

His staff grows heavy in his hand.
His arm aches and quivers.
He questions his power, his importance.
In his search for the buffalo.

Long, cold winters comes quickly.
He has no vision but fear.
So he prays, but no one has answered.
In his search for the buffalo.

The rivulet flows full from new rain.
Still no path of tracks to see.
He knows they have not come this far.
In his search for the buffalo.

How far ahead is the future?
What path should he follow now?
How can he ride any further?
In his search for the buffalo.

He looks out to the mountains.
He looks into the water’s edge.
He whistles for a soaring eagle,
But a crow replies instead.

In his search for the buffalo…

1 comment:

  1. Oh, I like this one too! Maybe poems are your thing?!


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