Osceola Waters

Rookie (29-5-1945 / Hobart Tasmania)

Tee Pees Are Burning - Poem by Osceola Waters

Black Thick fog creates a curtain of hidden death riding on horse back,
A place for foot soldiers to move unseen,
The fog allied to death,
Men and horses appear then disappear,
Phantoms soldiers hidden in mist,
The fog blends with the smoke that is being expelled from the Tee Pees,
Silent and calm is the braking of dawn,
The warmth of the sun radiates the morning,
As red fingers stretch out across this peaceful scene,
Solders exposed as the fog dissipates,
The dogs are on alert and come to attention,
The horses are nervous and stamp on the ground,
Cannon fire breaks the peace,
Destruction missiles through the air,
Tee Pees and people fall to the ground,
Death and destruction every where,
The blue coats arrive to complete the task,
Tee Pees are burning,
Terrified people are on the run,
Kayos in the camp as bullets rain down,
A storm of lead cuts every body down,
Sabers flash in the morning sun as they slice through the air,
People cut down as they run to escape,
Children scattered all over the ground,
Alive none found,
Mothers and babies could not escape and died at the hands of the blue coats,
The old found huddled together tangled in agony and left to die,
Warriors fought hand to hand out gunned out manned,
History smolders in the ashes of shame,
Conscience and soul absent this day,
Men in Congress ordered this massacre,
They see not what they do,
They care not about the murder that they ordered,
They hide behind wooden doors and use the army to do their bidding,
Orders go down the chain of command and stop at the link,
Of Custer’ s command,
Orders obeyed no thought is given,
It will be done with out second thought,
The lust for power is satisfied in blood,
Blue coats are saturated in red, dripping with the life of my people,
As a mother walks in another world, holding the limp body of her child,
No notice taken of a solitary soul, walking a long a phantoms trail,
Custer and his men take innocent life,
Then leave like thieves not looking back,
Callous was the mood, indifference to the act,
As Custer and his men fade away as if they were never there,

(Posted by: cougartracks)

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, May 6, 2007

Poem Edited: Tuesday, February 22, 2011

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