The Chief.

January 11, 2011
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Bare feet, walking open ground,
The sun brings light, with it, memories.
Chief's face, in death only crowned,
Travels alone -
The man without a tribe.

The wind at his back, old voices return,
Blade strikes blade, strife takes flight.
Chief's eyes, burning as they yearn,
Come back -
The sky without the stars.

Scars on his hands, drums grinning,
Put power before the poorest man.
Chief's voice, soft secrets spinning,
No lies -
The candle without the flame.

Tears fall, darkness rise,
Courage is the virtue of the lonely.
Chief's smile, in death only sings,
Travels alone -
The man without a tribe.

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