Down in a valley
off a gravel road
behind fine trees
sits a Red brick church.
Built in 1894
on old Indian land.
if you walk
the fields near by
just after harvest time
you can find arrow heads.
(I have 3 in my pocket)
Every Autumn
the trees dress up
and put on a show.
(it's like they know.Ya know?)
the harvest is done,
and fields are ready
for my adventures..
they say if you sit
nieth the trees
holding arrows
in Autumn
at sunset
you will see shadows
of Indain spirits
dancing
on falling leaves..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem