Harsh Winter On The Plains Poem by Philip Vincent Sanders

The cold November wind bites deep inside
And in the tepee there the baby lies
Asleep within the handmade cradle low
His breathing slight and soft and slow
The squaw is wrapped up warm against the cold
Around her only those infirm and old
For all the warriors now must search the plains
Seeking out the food that they can gain
For winters blast is shortly to arrive
And they must work to make sure they survive
So harsh and bitter at this time of year
Awaiting spring and summer to appear
The price that’s paid for having freedom’s key
The work that must be done beyond the scree
The fires are burning bright within the night
A warm secure and deeply heartening sight
For life will always be so stark and clear
Throughout the varied seasons of the year