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Indian Poetry
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Hawk
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Author Unknown
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Hawk's air-springed muscles helped him
glide |
so swiftly down the mountain side |
with sinew bulging spotted rump |
he vaulted o'r a rocky hump |
Descendants of Chief Joseph's herd |
Hawk's canter was like a flying bird |
Swollen streams couldn't break his
stride |
His head held high with Nes Pierce pride |
I rode that steed with fleeting speed |
his strong legs breaking through high
weed |
hailstones splattered, horseshoes
clattered |
and a flock of wild grouse chattered |
On shale slid Hawk, tripped and stumbled |
down the slope we flipped and tumbled |
the snow flakes started swirling down |
as I lay hurt, on rocky ground |
I was dazed, my body aching |
Dizzy, sore and both legs shaking |
we both felt pain from head to toes |
Yet hurt, Hawk raised me with his nose |
I wrapped my wounds and mounting, moaned |
said "Come Hawk, now take us home" |
around his neck my arms were tied |
he started down the mountain side |
I dreamed of being safe and warm |
As Hawk plowed through that raging storm |
and somewhere on that awful trek |
I slumped across that great arched neck |
Then thoughts came flooding in my head |
my wife sat crying by my bed |
I wont forget those words she said |
"He brought you home...but Hawk is dead" |
"For three whole days you've been asleep |
the snow outside is five feet deep |
Once you were home safe and sound |
Hawk whinnied once, then dead fell
down." |
She said "He brought you here on will |
and fell when coming down that hill |
his legs were gone, but still he came |
and when he stopped you breathed his
name" |
"Oh, no! My God it just cant be." |
The screams were coming out of me |
"Oh, please don't tell me Hawk has
died!" |
Then my wife held me while I cried |
I know he wasn't man, of course |
But just a big ol spotted horse |
So tell me, should I miss him so? |
A friend who took me through the snow. |
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