Fooling the Buffalo
       

A buffalo could outrun a lion, could outlast
a horse. Take a bullet in his shaggy head,
a buffalo could, and still roam the prairie.
Make the world rumble with his brothers,
jump as one jumped over a low wall
to escape the auction. Down an alley
and headbutt open a door, this buffalo could,
and stand majestic in a dressing room,
to gaze at the buffalo gazing at the buffalo
standing before a mirror. Could grunt,
could adore his reflection, this mammoth
beast, coffee-brown and goateed.
Indians would hunt for buffalo with a bow,
the strings made from the muscle of buffalo.
Or they hurried a herd toward a cliff,
a wooly waterfall that tumbled and bellowed.
Or ice, they coaxed the animal toward ice
to skid and stumble, easy target that bristled
with arrows. Duped toward death, the buffalo
bled on the valley floor, across the frozen
lake. Fooled toward love, the buffalo
licked the mirror, haloed in lights.
Could snort, could low, and be buffaloed.

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Copyright © 2011 David Hernandez All rights reserved
from Hoodwinked
Sarabande Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission