Smoky Hoss

Gold Star - 12,024 Points (01 may 1962 / U.S.A.)

Vision At Little Bighorn - Poem by Smoky Hoss

I went to Little Bighorn
On a hot summer day,1987,
I wondered if the Seventh Cavalry
Was in hell or heaven -
Out there all alone
I came upon the old General's ghost wandering around,
He kept glancing far away
While staying close to the ground -
I'll never know for certain
If he saw me or not,
He just kept wringing his hands
As if he couldn't stop -
Upon the path where he paced
Blood dripped from his boots,
It soaked in deep and wide
Down to the prairie grass roots -
From way down in this hallowed ground
I heard the dead soldiers cries,
The agony of the lost
Who so long ago on this spot died -
No one else was there under the burning sun
This mysterious scene to see,
I observed it all
Alone, on the desolate, dry prairie -
I felt as if a visitor
Watching from another time,
Perhaps the heat had got to me
Or I'd simply lost my mind -
I tried
But I could not walk away,
I wanted to ask him 'Why? '...
Yet no words could I say -
I just stayed there
Hour upon hour,
Watching, listening... feeling it all...
As if in the grip of a strange power -
I swear I saw Sitting Bull
Riding swiftly toward me on a spotted horse,
I was knocked flat to the ground
By the passing force -
I looked up high
Into the blazing sun,
There I saw Warriors in victory dancing
Realizing full well their fight was done -

Still, I couldn't help to wonder
What of Custer? What was his fate?
Was he too far gone?
Was it, for him, way too late?

Suddenly I was brought back,
when out of nowhere an old medicine man appeared.
Looking into me, as if reading my thoughts, he said,
' Do not worry about Custer, he'll never speak another word.
Because out here all alone the General shall remain, forever dead. ' -
'As for the rest of us
We all must come to understand,
The time to live and work together
Is now at hand. '
Then he reached down and helped me up;
Together we walked the long path back;
Side by side, into the sunset,
We followed the same track. -

Poet's Notes about The Poem

I was there at Little Bighorn that hot, windy August day in 1987;
With no one else around;
It was the strangest feeling,
Mingled with the strangest sounds.

Comments about Vision At Little Bighorn by Smoky Hoss

  • (5/27/2012 5:09:00 PM)

    An amazing poem really like it, a great poem. (Report) Reply

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  • Juan Olivarez (5/25/2012 8:12:00 PM)

    I am thunderstruck by this beautiful poem smoky, I have experianced something like this at a Pima ceremony. (Report) Reply

  • (5/25/2012 7:54:00 AM)

    love the ending....if our lives would ever touch the spirit of our Native Americans, we would find a new kind of freedom.... we do not own the earth... we are its children! (Report) Reply

  • (5/24/2012 7:16:00 PM)

    he allowed anger and a false sense of righteousness to devour him.... Crazy Horse wept after this battle... he knew it was the beginning of the end! (Report) Reply

  • (5/24/2012 7:01:00 PM)

    They had it in for Custer - the Indians (Report) Reply

Read all 5 comments »

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 24, 2012

Poem Edited: Thursday, May 24, 2012

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