by margaret | Jan 21, 2020 | black elk, visions
What happened after that until the summer I am nine years old is not a story…winters and summers, and they are good…the Wasichus have made their iron road along the platte and travel there. This cuts the bison herd in two, but those that stay in our country with us...
by margaret | Mar 29, 2019 | black elk
Then the bay horse wheels north to where the great white giant lives and says: Behold! And yonder there are twelve white horses, all abreast Manes flowing like blizzard wind Roaring from their noses And white geese…all about them…soaring, circling. Then...
by margaret | Sep 23, 2017 | black elk
What happened after that until the summer I am nine years old is not a story…winters and summers, and they are good…the Wasichus have made their iron road along the platte and travel there. This cuts the bison herd in two, but those that stay in our country with us...
