Chief Satanta
Chief Satanta
Sentenced to life
on the reservation,
handed a hoe
to dig in the dirt,
to farm for food.
Breaking the hoe
over his thigh, for
this was women’s work,
not a fearsome warrior’s.
Forced to abandon
nomadic ways,
forced to eat stringy beef,
tasteless corn given them
by the Indian agents.
Gone were the days
riding his stallion
bareback, hunting
with bow and arrow,
pulled taut
riding wild into
the stampeding herd
of buffalos,
fresh meat
to feed the tribe,
to clothed them
against the harsh winter
that will be upon them;
instead imprisoned
for his attacks
against the white man
who stole his land.
Left unguarded he leaps
from the second floor
soaring like an eagle,
setting his spirit free.
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