RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: TRUE HISTORY
The Ghost of Sitting Bull
We do not see his face
We do not hear his cry
But in this time and place *
His spirit never died
Sitting Bull was fierce in battle
Soft spoken in repose
He led the bison, not the cattle
He left behind his ghost
These days we have no chiefs
As bold and true as him
He held strong to his beliefs
His light will never dim
His spirit lives today
In the people who remember
He led his tribe the Lakota way
Sustained the dying ember
That ember turns to flame
A flame that always burns
His courage was his fame
From him we all can learn
* The sacred Black Hills
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