The Hunt Of Sorrow

March 27, 2018
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Our tribe’s food supply low,
bison rare to find.
But go out and hunt we must;
we need to survive.

My hunting group, eager to find bison,
spot one far out over the field.
It is only one but we chase it;
we need to survive.

We speed towards the bison,
our horses sprint as fast as rain drops falling.
Our horses fatigue, but we push on;
we need to survive.

We come within arrow range of the bison,
each of our men equally surrounding the animal.
The animal helpless and young but we kill him;
we need to survive.

About to release the arrow and a loud horn echos in our ears,
A train on the Transcontinental Railroad, and we head straight towards it.
The train might cross on us, but we need the bison;
we need to survive.

My heart stops as the train directly hits the bison,
propelling the lifeless bison into a ditch.
We cannot scavenge any meat from the young bison so we move on;
fearful we may not survive.

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