Buffalo (by Kiera S.)

By Kiera S.
In the distance, the horizon turns brown.
It rolls down the valley, thundering as it comes.
Slowly a 1,000 beady eyes peer out of the dust.
One wooly-headed black boulder
Tumbles down to meet its blessing of fate.
The opportunity to give its life
For the sake of another of a different kind.
One blessed buffalo spreads its worth to hundreds
Of Native People whose way of life depends on the Buffalo.
From head to toe they’re covered in Buffalo.
Fed by its rich meat clothed by its furs, sheltered by its hide.
In the distance the horizon turns red.
It washes down the valley, painting the grass with blood.
A 100 pairs of hungry eyes are tearing up
As their blessing falls down in defeat.
One crazed mob of hide hunters laughing, cheering
For victory at the fall of the beast.
Ripping the tongue , tearing the hide
All for the greed of gold.
One blessed future full of joy, happiness and possibility
Destroyed by one big B-A-N-G from a settler’s gun,  
All to take from another of a different kind.
One dream that promised so much,
A possibility laid waste.
Lying in a forever sleep, never to awaken.