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Hoot Owl Saved You

sickly stickly thickly tree No one to strike you down Axes about but no woodcutters And me with a sore finger You are unsightly in my garden an ugly renegade tree I tried to rid myself of you last year Yet here you are stronger than ever An owl hoot begs me for mercy on your behalf Lucky for you Native American ancestors have just saved you Maybe next year I will chop you down; this year you are safe. Thanks to the love of the Wyandotte who used to traipse this land.

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Michelle Faulkner

Date: 4/21/2020 6:21:00 PM

The spirits of Native Americans are all around, in trees, grass - even owls! Profound write, Caren-

Caren Krutsinger
Date: 4/22/2020 3:27:00 AM

When I hear the hoot of an owl, I remember that the land I live on was once known as "Indian Village" - the Wyandotte would come down the river in boats in the spring and there would be hundreds of tents pitched along the stream in my backyard which runs about ten miles.