Bringing back the Buffalo

Bringing back the Buffalo

Horseless Writers come upon it
slit the belly, stretch it out
Dry, tomorrow's fading flesh
lay ink upon it, leave no doubt

Build a fire for yesterday
Sunsets soaring, sear them in
What a feast the past becomes
for Writer scraping flesh from skin

Strands of nape to weave a legend
Someone's cloth, another's cap
Skull to mark the sacred place
and hooves an instrument to clap

Yes carve him down, this Buffalo
lay his head on scarlet sand
With Writer's fury, Writer's woe
and horns held gentle in thy hand

And when they've finished none remains
no blood unwritten, tooth unturned
the story whole lives on forever
Spirit free and body burned

Not dark nor storm could cloak that trail
that led them where the carcass lay
Now paper drumskins, bone batons
they've tales; they've music now to play