That quiet meadow of murder and deceit
The white men dressed as Piute's
Putting the gun on the tired sojurnors.
"Remember what they did to us back In Missouri."
So it happened and the sojurnors were dead,
Those over four years old. 158 of them.
Chaos and blood, bucking horses in the quiet meadow.
Curious silence as the wind picked up.
The few Piute's didn't look pleased.
"Such a monstrous thing the white men do."
Woman with bonnet half blown off, face down
And the men turned up with arms stretched out
pained expressions, like the soldiers at Antietam.
A few screams/ mostly gun-staccato like a volley
delivered to an advancing regiment.
Silence, wind, and tall brown grass.
Back to Poetry Page
Back to davideide.com