A thousand tipis covered the valley floor
braves old and young ready for the hunt
A winter’s meat must be found.
The Deer, Buffalo and Turkey
Along with Hog, Rabbit, and Bear
Must be hunted, killed and processed,
The winter’s meat salted and packed away.
Days and nights they’ll forego sleep
To ensure their families will have food to eat
Headed out for winter camp, the great snows are coming.
Draw close around the fire tonight
Smoking the pipe of brotherhood
Sharing hopes and dreams of the future.
Grandfathers, Fathers and Sons
Teaching and learning the ways things are done
Multicolored skies bring fall to a close.
Winter is a time to rebuild families
Sharing the knowledge of the old ones
The Anasazi, the Ancients, the Great Spirit.
Those braves whose thunderous hooves are heard across time
Young men learning of time and tradition
They will teach in turn to generations yet unborn.
A thousand tipis — They will never return
This makes me sad, so very sad.