Pawnee Otoe.

Oh Sunny of the painted word,

Yet not before your name I’ve heard,

And then, as if perhaps perchance

I Read of Pawnee Indian chants,

Saw painting of a tiny child,

A native of Red Indians wild;

Then in my breast my heart did pound,

For I could hear the war drums sound;

I knew that in my life before,

I had fought in their futile war,

Had seen the evil done by whites,

Who killed as if was their rights;

So let us hang our heads in shame,

For we, must also share the blame.

©Leslie de la Haye. AKA Bald  Eagle.
14th Jan 2001.
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