Wind

Come harvest with me

Under our mighty sun

My blood is thicker for my love that passes

Thousands of times I have smoked

Weeping Red ends the sky

Oak Red makes sky greater

The strength of mountains can no longer hold me

The strength of currents can no longer carry me

Kneel down by the river

An eagle lands upon a rock

My heart is now in summer

And summer is my heart

Weeping Red makes good rope

Oak Red makes good boil

Leaves fall for long

Colored teas gathered

Winter winds blow in my face

Blistered hands burnt

Move Westward said Eagle God

Become named and never return

Come back a new son

Return as a mighty one

Come back a new daughter

Return as a blade of grass

Weeping Red now gone

Oak Red now gone

Drum beat played on hill

Drum beat played on ground

Men with cow carcass bellies

Blow to your burial

The wind leaves a trail

And the rain pours on your dead

© 2001 David Greg Harth

01.06.26.04:21:18@296NYC