The chief had gone to war.
Across the valley,
Through the hills, over the river, to fight for those at home.
His daughter had stayed,
The Little one had gone and played
In the trees, so green and full.
She started home, but knew
She was lost in the forest.
The sky grew dark, and
She prayed; for her father to come, and for warmth among the trees.
In the morning, the Chief returned victorious, and as he walked home,
He saw the gathering of flowers,
Yellow edged, red spires, brown circle, with a heart of golden circle, spread out like a blanket, an
Indian Blanket,
There he saw his daughter among them,
Sleeping gently, quietly in peace, covered in the warmth.
Ralph Peck
Photography by
Bonnie Adamson
South West of Enid Oklahoma
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