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The Mocassin Flower

Eighteen seventy, a Wondrous birth,
A tiny Golden Flower broke thru the Earth,
towards the skies, thru waist high snow,
Miracle bloomed, thirty below,

Major Drunk, hundred times two,
crept up at dawn, innocents they knew,
encircled village, ambush discrete,
women and children, what a feat,

Frigid gust, Gold Blossom to quiver,
Along the bank of a troubled river,
waterway's name, by personhood,
Lewis's cousin, Maria Wood,

Early this morn, the Faultless slept,
contented, agreements they had kept,
Dreams they joined of Life Giving Sun,
of Beaver's protection, of mirthful fun,

Remarkable Flower, does never die,
this glorious plant that strikes the eye,
one hundred forty, years and still,
all seasons survived, Great Spirit's will

Bangs commenced, metal chips flew,
teepees, humans, animals too,
the Great Betrayal, thus wept our Maker,
Governance hiding this deed called Baker,

Bright Golden Blossom if one does touch,
tranquil Heart thee, Blessed so much,
then travel will whom, straight up far,
to a Magical Prairie on an overhead Star,

Chief Heavy Runner ran out to the cold,
waving his proof, his hands did hold,
to soldiers the treaty he wanted to show,
struck down in stride, blood in the snow,

Celestial Prairie as far as sight,
Beautious Teepees, by Fire's light,
sides of tents, paint colors bold,
Nature's icons, many stories told,

Some fell inside, some ran out,
dive icy waters, a desperate route,
families ended, cries and screams,
two hundred killed, madness it seems,

Settled on Star, serene with no foe,
every day, a full Rainbow,
children play among Prairie's Puffs,
Braves Sacred Hunts along the bluffs,

piled the dead in one big heap,
while the captured, in pain did weep,
burned the Beautiful to the ground,
never have remains ever been found,

Millions of Bison on Heavenly Plains,
Berries called Buffalo grow after rains,
Beargrass blooms here and there,
Mother Nature loves tribal Care,

Marched captives out, not enough clothes,
thirty below, walking ones froze,
this site and act, Governance hides,
Spirit reminds, till Atone Abides,

Upon this Star, where nary any pain,
the Elders of the Village are short to explain,
the center of Camp which all call Our,
a Shining Golden Moccasin Flower.

© Luke Aditsan 2010

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