The hot white noon

A medicine man by the blue water,
Sway of reeds, flickering grass tongues
The stream — his moon-eyes visible
To the white panther that stalks him down;
It prowls, the hunt is on, the pony
Crying, each claw a brier; the marauder
In snarled thickets lurks, then ambushes;
Hungry. Hungry.
Gutted sacred lands haggard through
The hot white noon, burn to ash.

A medicine man hurled his heart to halt
A pace; suffered a raw wound, marred the flesh;
Forgotten his death. Advancing blues
To halt the red man — peace treaty like
Snake cloth, rules the writhing;
Rights to ancestral lands condemned,
Bolt the door, trail of tears.
Illness quickens, starvation gonging in their ears,
Dark guilt puts them in their graves;
The white panther’s belly is full.

Copyright © 01/24/18 lance sheridan®

The hot white noon

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4 comments on “The hot white noon

  1. Barbara says:

    Lance – as I read your writings I feel the presence of the voices within your poems, a knowing every image is carefully sculptured by the person holding the pen and each one will tantalize the readers mind bringing on great responses in an imaginative form – every poem is special in its own way – this is excellent Dear Friend! Barb 🙂

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