Native Man



Up on the rocks,
High on a hill.
Sits a man on a horse,
Like a statue he's still.


Bronze from the sun,
Chisled, like stone.
This proud Native man,
Red-blooded to the bone.


His black hair flows,
Down his back with grace.
Like silken coal,
It frames his face.


His muscles are corded,
And hard to the touch.
His eyes are piercing,
They have seen so much.


This glorious man,
Up there on his mount.
Has seen many horrors,
Too numerous to count.


And yet he remains,
To his heritage, true.
His beliefs, his strength.
Its all he ever knew.


A man of pride,
He lives off the land.
Only takes what he needs,
Because he understands.


This Native man,
A beauty to behold.
A spirit wind...
A legend told.

Author's Notes/Comments: 


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