A Burial

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem is based on the old west.

Submitted: February 15, 2007

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Submitted: February 15, 2007

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A Burial




The wagon lay in ashes,

The oxen long dead.

Still he searched the skyline,

His eyes filled with dread.



The man had fought bravely,

His woman by his side.

A girl child lay close,

The place where she had died.



A slender shaft told the story.

That carried the Cheyenne brand.

The site of the battle,

Brought tears to a hardened man.



He didn’t blame the indians,

They feared this slow moving change.

As the “ones” who went before them.

When they first traveled this range.



From his “toke” a shovel,

Bit into the hardened soil.

It kept his mind busy,

His eyes from the little girl.



He laid them together,

Side by side.

The mother, the father,

The wee small child.



A silent word was given,

To the one, of he never spoke.

Before the shovel,

Was returned to his “toke”.



For a woman who was a mother,

For a father who was so brave,

For a child who had never harmed another,

Who now lay in a shallow grave.



He climbed aboard his mount,

Turned to ride away,

A gentle wind, a childish voice.

“Thank you for coming this day.”



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