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My Vision of the Indian Slaughter

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Below is the poem entitled My Vision of the Indian Slaughter which was written by poet Timothy Jacks. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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My Vision of the Indian Slaughter

That day is etched in the back of my mind still
I was five yet I can still hear the screams and cries piercing in the clearing
My uncle Hodge was in the saddle on Babydoll
His best friend Wade was on a stud dealing with those problems
My uncle said " Timbo look theres Indians" then they both took off at a gallop
I look and at first I did'nt see nothing
I knew they was playing so I thought lets see if this pony can catch em
But wait now I can hear them
I look and I see women Indian and children running into the clearing
I was'nt scared they looked like innocent women and children
I figured I would see what they wanted
Then I heard the hooves beating into the earth
Then I knew their situation
I waited to see if I was mistaken
Then I seen a Soldier on horseback with a saber
cutting down a young warrior
I heard the cries of his mother
as she ran to her son who was slaughtered
I hallored at her 
I told her not too
He waited till she got closer
He smiled his eyes lit up and he struck her
I was like if I had a gun I would help ya'll
But Im not a sheep to be slaughtered

I still go there, I have found arrowheads and pottery
I was baptized in the creek beyond the clearing
There I have made money 
On Christmas I went to p[ay my respects
To that young brave warrior
I found a dead fox then
The cactus are black and dying
It is sacred ground
It is where I will face them

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