I sunk my fingers down
into the loam of an ancient
buffalo wallow and the
land that had quietly
prepared for their species
untold millennia before me.
I held the buffalo’s
mourning in my heart,
and felt the Buffalo Nations’
cry rattle against my ribs.
I opened myself to the
Earth and it spoke
sorrowfully to me
of its broken home.
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 9:27 AM UTC
I sunk my fingers down
into the loam of an ancient
buffalo wallow and the
land that had quietly
prepared for their species
untold millennia before me.
I held the buffalo’s
mourning in my heart,
and felt the Buffalo Nations’
cry rattle against my ribs.
I opened myself to the
Earth and it spoke
sorrowfully to me
of its broken home.
