Indian Run

(Torrent of a Past Monsoon)

barrel drum rumbles
black smoke signals rise
an Indian stumbles
and his dear squaw cries.

running fast he flees
men in hot pursuit
from behind he sees
flying arrows shoot.

now he runs for life
he must leave pronto
he stole the Chief’s wife
so quick he must go!

(there goes old story
from a past monsoon
when on the prairie
shone the light of moon.)


- between
story and prairie
is the moon.

(c) Chito L. Aguilar