Mercy, Turned
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Cold and sodden
The rain fell heavy in the night
As if his sins were known to the sky gods
And, in mercy, sought to wash them off his spirit
He knelt down by the old Cheyenne chief
Eyes softly lit by the kerosene lantern he held
"Our crimes against your people are beyond forgiveness," he said
Struggling through the chief's native tongue
The ailing chief looked up at him, a furrow in his brow
"I was a good soldier," the calvalry officer continued, "it was my job"
Tears streaming, though the chief could not tell in such a downpour
Unsheathing his knife, he cut the old man's restraints
"In your next world," he added, "say a prayer for us ... for the white man"
"We have wronged you so," hanging his head in shame
The old chief placed a weathered hand tenderly on the officer's shoulder
Rose to his feet, and walked slowly off into the night
Carrying a heaviness beyond that of the storm ...
A single gun shot in the distance confirmed his troubled heart
He stopped briefly to say a prayer for the soldier's spirit
Thought of his woman's smile ... and headed home.
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Contest 600, Any Free Verse, Up To A Max Of 20 Lines" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2019
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