The Indian Tear

by

Daniel Chapa

The Indian on the cliff
Draws his bow taught
The arrow stiff and slender
Is powered by a thought

Let loose is the arrow
Flying through the air
Wobbling for a second
Becomes an eagle without a care

The eagle begins a dive
Tucks the wings to gain speed
Bulleting without caution
Of caution it has no need

Breath fills the lungs
As the ground becomes near
The feathered chest pops
As the missle sheds a tear

The tear continues on and
Lands on an umbrella
Its carried through town
On the shoulder of a fella

The fella sits down
And wonders where they went
The natives of this country
The ones that god sent

He thinks for a moment
Then his thought disappears
A moment is a moment
Even when it lasts for years

The year of the Indian is gone
In a grave becoming stiff
But the Indian slings his arrow
From his perch upon the cliff.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at The old fields of Inchileigh
by: Francis Duggan
from: Wonthaggi, Victoria, Australia

To visit all of Daniel Chapa's poems, click HERE

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