Golden Forests
Golden are the forests.
From hunter green to golden yellow and bright red with crimson,
the seasons change in fiery hue.
Seasons changing as I, Little Bear, hunt for meat for
when the winter snows come.
Beauty as I watch a doe slide by.
I slip to the ground as I see a buck in its entire splendor pause.
Quiet and swift I send an arrow to his heart.
The day will be long as I walk to retrieve and skin my catch.
Leaves fall lightly to the ground.
Snow to come, soon in the air.
As the mists fl oat above, I smell it coming.
For now I must hurry and return to the tribe.
Golden Forests await Winter’s Sleep.
Page 178
From :
"The Four Winds" New Book
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