On the Warpath
By luigi_pagano
Sun, 17 Sep 2017
- 1684 reads
6 comments
After the Little Bighorn triumph
thoughts of burying the hatchet
and of smoking the peace-pipe
were not on Sitting Bull’s mind.
While his warriors were jubilant
and danced with bloody trophies,
he sat in his tepee excogitating.
With a forehead deeply furrowed
and his face lined with worry,
he felt a sense of foreboding.
The white men had been known
to speak with forked tongues;
many times they had promised
to respect the will of his people,
but now they disputed the right
of the natives to own their land.
He knew that the recent success
was an ephemeral achievement
and that in the end their fight
would prove to have been in vain;
the territories they now occupied
in time would become less and less.
© Luigi Pagano 2017
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Comments
No wonder his brow was
Permalink Submitted by Philip Sidney on
No wonder his brow was wrinkled, the demise of the culture of his people in sight. A thought-provoking piece.
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Good piece. The sadness of
Permalink Submitted by David Kirtley on
Good piece. The sadness of history, nicely put!
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Hi Luigi,
Permalink Submitted by skinner_jennifer on
Hi Luigi,
I too can understand his worry. It was such an atrocity that these people lost their land to the savagery of white man.
Like your train of thought for the I P. It fits well.
Jenny. xx
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