Through The Aspens

The snow was falling softly
 On that cold and bitter day
The Indians were so weary
Having very little,  to say

Horses trod through the Aspens
That stood so very tall....
Their destination, unfamiliar
It was ....The White Man's call

Winding through the trees
While bracing against the cold
Disheartened ...they were leaving
Their land, from day's of old

They knew not what to expect
Forced against their will.....
To travel on, with heavy hearts
Against the winter's chill

If the Aspens could tell a tale
Of  hardships, the Indians bore
Traveling the snow packed trail
Feeling sadness...To the core

Then we'd  understand their anger
At the White Man ....and his way
Realizing, how great their losses
Causing them grief, day after day

Copyright © 2006 Judith Johnson Kypta