Lizzie Red Bird

On this date

Friday December 12, 1919

Lizzie Red Bird froze to death

in the darkening winter night,

on the South Dakota plain

a prisoner of the Rosebud Reservation in

the Imperial United States,

she ran away from boarding school

with Annie Course Voice,

who lost her feet to the cold

& amputation frost bite survivor

long enough to face the 4-H,

the tea party set, cut your hair

take your seat obedience,


Poor Lizzie, you only wanted

to escape that shapeless shoe-less fantasy,

office of interior design;


the snow still falls from Canada up north

I hear, lines are thickly drawn;


Were you buried, my Lizzie,

with the bars facing up or down?

 

About Tom Pescatore

Tom Pescatore grew up outside Philadelphia dreaming of the endless road ahead, carrying the idea of the fabled West in his heart. He maintains a poetry blog: amagicalmistake.blogspot.com. His work has been published in literary magazines both nationally and internationally but he'd rather have them carved on the Walt Whitman bridge or on the sidewalks of Philadelphia's old Skid Row.
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