The Dry Bed of Old Birch Creek

On the dry bed of old Birch Creek lay bones Of deer picked clean by buzzards these stones Forged a path for a thousand dances of the Sun They came here for me I am the one The last of my band to make my home On the dry bed of old Birch Creek On the dry bed of old Birch Creek I take A deep drag from my pipe my son will make His living packing meat in Great Falls Far from here it is good for him but these cabin walls Will ring no more with laughter of children at the break Of dawn on the dry bed of old Birch Creek Along the dry bed of old Birch Creek where Apisi And I would run to see Grandfather ready For the hunt in the days the buffalo Were a thick fog on the plain oh how we longed to go With Father and Grandfather who would wave to me As the band moved out along the dry bed of old Birch Creek On the dry bed of old Birch Creek I pass The days smoking drinking waiting but at last The Great White Father's rations arrive My boy joined the Army and now must survive The white man's war in France Better he die fighting than conquered on the dry bed of old Birch Creek September 16, 2016