The Squaw Poem by Philip Vincent Sanders

The squaw knelt down beside the stream
The waters flowing fast
And let her fingers feel the cold
As the icy waters passed
The wind came rustling at her skirt
And gently blew her hair
The silence and the stillness
She didn’t have a care
Her beauty flowed across her face
Her eyes a sultry hue
The harshness of her life
Still felt so sweet and true
She felt the time amongst the plains
An honest worthwhile life
And didn’t worry needlessly
About apparent strife
If only time had stopped right then
And left them as they were
Within a distant time warp
Without todays sad cares