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Thunder On The Prairie |
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Once the dry prairie was filled with the thunder-- The ground-quaking, earthshaking hooves running hard; Now, though, the wild has been torn all asunder, The tall grass and dark earth with wicked fires scarred. And what of the thunder that criss-crossed the plain? It's been whittled down slow by hunter and gun, Its dark eyes too mute to express all its pain-- Shot down and butchered till the plains with blood run. The thunder died down but did not lose its voice; It bided its time till the butchers moved on; And only now can all the thunder rejoice, As with its new young it will face a new dawn. --1998 |