To Kill the Choctaw Cow

To Kill The Choctaw Cow The Choctaw Nation Oklahoma, with proud and noble people Hunting is our nature and our way Pretty Tail was a family member, a friendly cow She gave us milk for many moons This is the story of her kill My father Bully Ten Foot is our chief Old and ill from living beyond himself Hills and tent on prairie land, filled our purpose No game to feed us so our cows sustained us Food was scarce through winters blasting bite Pretty Tail stayed just outside my tee pee every night Years of her soft moo would sooth me off to sleep Starvation steeped in desperation came on hard Crops failed, grazing ended without rain Pain became the Choctaw, as one and the same An Indian man must always be a brave Must know his reason within nature and the nation Bully Ten Foot honored me, with the sacred task My hunting knife and I took Pretty Tail down below the neck I slit her deep within her throat She bled on me her blood, a river of sorrow For hours I let her do so with her last drops of red And held her tight as my best friend Made sure my tears spilled over into her blank eyes And cried for her, in her place Never again will I wear hide or eat a steak But I ate her brains for power Rode at great speed on angry stallions back Black, with strong memories in mind And opened up inside the plains releasing spirits To send her off From Choctaw Nation 9/24/14 Divine Intervention - Poetry Contest