Poem Hunter
Arrow To The Cree
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Arrow To The Cree

The foreign white lamb under October's shedding trees
We have turned the wrong way
Away from the sheep as they lay
The grip just won't stick
The milk is too thick
Enabling is to aim an arrow to the Cree's

Trail's end, trail's end
around the bend, my friend
And all I have to say to you
is good-bye

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