Tribe of Two
That lovely midnight howl,
a hunt for the gatherer male.
A place of angered thunder,
and the moonlight never pale.
Peace pipe leads the night,
feathers and furs needing rest.
Two loves but one dear heart,
set their vision in the west.
A mighty chieftain long ago,
spoke of this eventful day.
Her subtle hands upon him,
molded his thoughts like clay.
With his glowing amber eyes,
that peered deep into her soul,
The golden hue of her skin,
made him once again whole.
Silent kissing in shrouded fog,
beneath the purple hazing mist.
If these two should split apart,
then true love would not exist.
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