Indian Summer Rev 1

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem to a friend.

Submitted: March 31, 2012

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Submitted: March 31, 2012

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Indian Summer

By M. E. Riddle

I once knew a Navajo

His face old, eyes aglow.

Astride Old Paint

Wielding a knife

His talks of life, his wife, his pipe.

Terra native, of men and mice

A bird he was, a visual delight.

His words, berries

Dropped by the soul

To the earth, far below.

I knew a man

He was Navajo.

His life old, legacy foretold

Western icon, his story unfolds

“I’d rather have salmon than turkey today,”

Some days he would say

After a hard summer rain.

And after a dream

He’d remember his pain

The white men with no names.

Isolationist to the bone

Salt of the earth

A man of stone

He was Navajo.


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