anythinggoes

This poem is written about the painting “The Buffalo Dance” by Charles F. Wimar

The dancing red fire warmly lights the buffalo dancers. The low constant beating of the drum sets the beat. All watch in amazement. The pounding of the feet unfurls the dust from the ground. The clouds of smoke and dust dance together to make a dark hue over the natives. The bright yellow sun slips behind the meandering clouds of the night. Loudly there comes a chant from the buffalo dancers. All join in. The pulse remains the same as a gentle rattle comes to the surface.  But this is fallacious, this is a simple brush stroke on history’s canvas.

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