by Thomas Davis
a sonnet from the Waterkeeper’s sonnet cycle
The old man stood inside the freezing dark
And watched the Indians in their makeshift camp.
He felt his age, an ancient patriarch
Who’s seen too much of living hard to tamp
The rage he felt into a discipline
The oilmen in their fancy suits and ties
Embraced each time their spokesmen put their spin
Upon the outrage in the Indian lies
That let them dance and sing and carry on
Their protests as the winter iced men’s blood
And civilization turned into a pawn
Of waterkeepers dredged from river mud.
Our Mother Earth, he sneered, then turned away.
The Law will win, he thought, and have its say.
Note: The Waterkeeper’s Sonnet Cycle is in honor of the protestors in North Dakota who are enduring harsh winter weather while still keeping their protest going. This is the second sonnet in the cycle published here.
fourwindowspress 
Well done Tom – in a long and honourable tradition, this is poetry crafted with a social purpose.
Nice tribute in these unbelievable let’s-go-at-history-as-if-it’s-never-happened times. Aloha.
Reblogged this on Ben Naga and commented:
Let us stand in Spirit beside them
STANDING ROCK
I have a struggle
In comprehending those
Who are using rubber bullets and tear gas
On these unarmed and peaceful protesters
How far they have lost their way
Since their birth as innocents
I wonder what lives they have endured
To have them land up in this dismal situation
Still, you do get a kind of identity
And the uniform and weapons come free
– https://bennaga.wordpress.com/2016/11/25/standing-rock/
Good going, Tom. Keep it up, especially in these coming times. Love yo you and Ethel. Sayword
Have a wonderful 2017 Sayword. I bought your new book from Standing Feather’s new shop and plan to read it during the next several days. I’ve dipped into it a couple of times now and am amazed by the power in the poetry I’ve read.
Great poem, Thomas. It seems the battle between good and evil is never-ending…. It’s painful, the stark difference between Vision and the darkness of greed; the shortsightedness of those who are barren of Soul and Spirit. And now, since the election I fear for the future of Gaia. We must gather our energies together and keep up the fight – with poetry like yours.
I’m afraid too, Betty.