What The Bison Saw
What the Bison saw was a universe of grass reckless with abandon wildly undulating while capitulating to the fury of the wind What the Bison saw was fire in the sky raking, arachnid-like arcing bolts that lit the inky night and set the prairie afire What the Bison saw were frozen winter 'scapes a sea of rimy fur and vast clouds of cottony breath What the Bison saw were packs of Great Plains Wolves that choreographed strategic onslaughts on the fold they took both young and infirm What the Bison saw were indigenous people who drove the panic-stricken herd to death over treacherous cliffs What the Bison saw were iron trails stretching far across the prairie's face avenues for smoke-belching monsters that spoke of thunder and lead What the Bison saw was a landscape of death tongueless, hideless carcasses scattered liberally to the horizon What the Bison saw was a situation of near extinction yet, from a small group their numbers grew but never like they were ... that is what the Bison sees ~ Poem and Bison capture, What The Bison Saw © Jerry L. Ferrara