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Wounded Knee 1973

The Buffalo comes
Their hooves pound loudly
The hunt is on
My heart pounds loudly
My breath escapes me
My pony races the wind
The roar is deafening
The earth is shaking
The chase overwhelms me
I am screaming!
My voice is lost in the roar
I throw my lance
And it finds its mark
The Buffalo, my brother, must die
So my people may live
I am a hunter
I am Lakota!

The morning sun streaks across the sky, reflecting off the white walls of the old church. Inside bronzed men stir awake from a restless sleep. Their dreams of glory leave them.

They guard a small village near a creek where Crazy Horse is buried. Another day at the siege of Wounded Knee has begun.

© Richard L. DuMont October 16, 2007

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