American Bison

I was at a zoo in Massachusetts and saw some buffalo in a pen.

                                    American Bison
            
            Centuries ago they roamed in countless numbers
            Stirring dust storms, grazing on wild grasses, yet

            Here, four of them stroll about their manmade playpen
            Lazily eating straw handouts.

 

            Yellowed fibers streak long black tufts,

            Matted on oversized heads.

            Enclosed in stone and iron, no contact, no petting
            Dull slate grey eyes evidence evolution’s end.

            Breezes sweep the dry mini-plain and lace the air with
            Odors of vinegar and honey from the warm dung piles.

 

            Shadows from proximal trees cool their massive torsos,
            Soothing the beasts into the complacency of wood.

            Integral part of a native culture, once worshiped,
            Once respected, living in abundance, majestic

 

            Lords of the plains, free to run, fighting with numbers
            Now reduced to nothing.  American Bison, once free,

 

            Now nickels, Buffalo burgers, a sideshow.
 

 

Reviews

[Chad Halle]

i enjoy this, somehow even captures the slow movement of the bison. they always seem to have a tear in their eye, and this almost brings one to mine...i like to keep buffalo nickels, my favorite one is this one that's all worn down- can't tell what year it is or read any of the engravings, but for some reason i like that coin.
sure do like this poem as well.