Nov. 10, 2016
I'm an old woman now. The buffalo and deer are gone. Soon the Cheyenne culture will be gone. It's as if I never even lived this life. My son was raised in white man's schools. I can't forget our old ways. Sometimes I still plow the corn ans sing like I did when I was young. No one cares about the songs anymore. I look out and see the sunset. In the shadows I can imagine seeing the village. I can hear the warriors and the laughter of the children. It's only an old woman's dream. Tears fill my eyes and the life I knew is gone forever.
The speaker of this poem tries to remember the days of her youth. She imagines all the sights and sounds that had once filled the camp so many years ago. It was the time when she was the most happy. But it is gone. The white man took over the land, forced the Natives to join their culture. By forcing this new culture upon the people, their traditions and culture was lost. Now it is only a memory. It makes you think of the times when everything was simple and happy, but then something shifts and everything falls a part and that moment is gone forever.
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