The Buffalo Grass

Its been forty-five days since the snows have begun

I stare at the fire and long for the sun

As the bitter winds blow through the mouth of the pass

I sit here and dream of the Buffalo grass

The ponies are shaggy; their coats have grown long

With heads down, they huddle together as one

At the window my breath forms a mist on the glass

As I patiently wait for the Buffalo grass

The Seasons still turn

And the prairies still yearn

For those who were here long ago

The Sioux have all gone and the Bison moved on

Soon, I will follow them home

Mollie passed in September and left me alone

Now my heart is as heavy and round as a stone

Too many years have gone by too fast

And I long for the feel of the Buffalo grass

The animals sleep while the world holds it’s breath

The woods are as still and as silent as death

When the mountain streams flow, spring will follow at last

And the wind will blow free through the Buffalo grass

The Seasons still turn

And the prairies still yearn

For those who were here long ago

The Sioux have all gone and the Bison moved on

Soon, I will follow them home

The geese will return, a symbol of change

The elk will be foraging out on the range

Once again nature’s palette will color the pass

And I will find peace in the Buffalo grass

Yes, I will find peace in the Buffalo grass