Lance
dressed in a feather
on a fur cap
and an oil skin coat
the medicine man
sits by
a grave of old wisdom
wearing whisker stubs of
light and mystery
he sits there like a stone
in a dream wthout mirrors
his hands circle my sleep
and in the center
coyotes and bears pad
around the rim of darkness
his arms rise
we see him dimly
then not at all
Copyright © Johnnie Hynson | Year Posted 2015
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