Keith D Trestrail Poet Sonnet

Notes About The Poem

For Oscar On His 13th Birthday

His the archer’s bow, straight his arrowhead
  on foot and trail swift as the running deer,
and long his hair the eagle feathers spread
  in the buckskin war bonnet he does wear.
My boy the dreamcatcher, the hunter brave
  in buffalo horn and porcupine quills -
ghost of the warrior chief in the grave
  whose heart lies on the plains and in the hills.
Where beats a drum and burns a campfire -
  a child of the Great Spirit in the sky,
like the roebuck leaping farther, higher,
  chasing a dream in the wind and the rye.
You are the Indian bark, the sacred tree,
a totem from the depth and breadth of me.


               Written: March 2013

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment