CIRCLES
Primitive peoples see life in circles
but we’ve tried to straighten them out
taught them how to get ahead
and what life’s really all about
For we know the ways of progress
and we’re moving along just fine
But did we forget to our own regret
that there’s nothing inside a line
OLD WIVES LAKE MASSACRE – THE LEGEND
About a hundred and fifty or two hundred years ago, in what is now south west Saskatchewan, a band of Cree camping on the shore of a prairie lake were surrounded by a much larger band of Blackfoot warriors.
In order to save the lives of the young and strong, they slipped out under cover of darkness while the old and infirm stayed behind to keep the fires burning and keep up the appearance of an occupied camp.
When the Blackfoot attacked the next morning they were furious at having been tricked in this way and massacred all of the remaining inhabitants of the camp including all the old wives.
This unusual and powerful occurrence is remembered to this day in the name of the lake
I grew up and ranched along its shores.
OLD WIVES LAKE MASSACRE – THE POEM
I have eaten the beef
that ate the grass
that grew on your unmarked graves
And the sadness I sing, I sing for you
for all sadness is one sadness
all pain one pain
and all treachery one treachery
Many have eaten of the buffalo and the beef
They wake in the night
and do not know why they are sad
The Legend
The Poem
DEER GONE
A tough shot, 600 yards at least, running left to right
in the open sights of the 303. Aim to the top of the
third jump ahead, move the gun in a smooth arc
and squeeze slow
It was a kill
I saw it as great skill
a source of blood fed pride
and the deer… well it just died
The Indians used to see it as a kind of revolving door
the spirit of the animal would come back soon
enough in another body if you used the one
he had given up to you with gratitude
There are not many deer in these parts anymore
I wonder if they are trapped
waiting for the gratitude
Indians lost in whiskey
and we never knew