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About bigskybuckeye

Born in the Big Sky Country of Montana and now living in the Buckeye State of Ohio, Richard is the creative mind behind Big Sky Buckeye. Retired after 40 years of teaching, I enjoy writing, photography, traveling, and following a healthy lifestyle.

Distant Beating Drum

One can hear a distant drum beating as Native American culture faces an neverending onslaught upon their way of life.  It all begins in 1607 with the settlement of the Jamestown colony.  Listen closely, do you hear . . .

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A distant beating drum . . .

 

Europeans sail to a pristine land

Fixated with ways of the Red Man

Ignoring these Native Americans

They push inland because they can

 

A distant beating drum . . .

 

Wealth and greed motivate the White Man

Appropriating riches found by his hands

Native Americans outnumber these men

Unaware of the many more to be sent

 

A distant beating drum . . .

 

Native Americans trade land for peace

Hoping the greed and violence will cease

A new American culture lusts for more

Their hunger for more continues to soar

 

A distant beating drum . . .

 

Slowly Native Americans sadly retreat

Heartbroken, their culture faces defeat

Maintaining their language and traditions

Now experiencing life with new conditions

 

Where has the silent beating drum gone?

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Native American culture struggles to hold on to its footprint of life in today’s world.  In Maryland, the Choptank nation long ago assimilated into the European-based culture.  Out West, a system of reservations have failed to provide a stable way of life.  The lands set aside in Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, Wyoming, and Oklahoma have created a setting for poverty and a lack of sufficient opportunities for the Native people.

If you enjoyed reading this poem and hunger for more about Native American history and the life out West, feel free to check out these previously published poems.

 

 

 

Billy Graham Quote

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Integrity is the glue that holds our way of life together.  We must constantly strive to keep our integrity intact.  When wealth is lost, nothing is lost; when health is lost, something is lost; when character is lost; all is lost.

From Titus 2:7-8:  “Show yourself in all respects a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, gravity, and sound speech that cannot be censured; then any opponent will be put to shame, having nothing evil to say of us.”

Waiting and Ready

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Sitting eerily silent after these forgotten years

The abandoned firehouse rests without fears

 

Remaining alive, vivid memories reign again

Quietly remembering all that had once been

 

Rising above a busy street, the firehouse stands

Firefighters arrive on deck, with powerful hands

 

Living quarters on the second floor make due

Firefighters’ labors never seem quite through

 

Recalling a flawless safety record that shines

Teamwork and training work together just fine

 

Feeling safe, homes and merchants live nearby

They all witness courage as every day races by

 

Filling the ground floor, two red engines wait

The ensuing alarm will signal their next fate

 

Waiting side by side . . . shiny, clean, and bright

Pumper and ladder engines, eager to take flight

 

Providing basic firefighting is the pumper’s place

While the ladder reaches high floors, just in case

 

Visiting a nearby grade school one October day

The ladder engine shows off in a marvelous way

 

Encouraging children ask the ladder to go high

Accommodating firefighters look prepared to fly

 

Returning to the firehouse, a calm and inviting sight

An alarm goes out, both engines prepare for the fight

 

Sliding down a pole, firefighters destined for action

Their special clothing assembled, ready in a fraction

 

Rolling out to the street, piercing sirens wail

These seasoned warriors intend never to fail

 

Weaving through traffic, the engines arrive in time

Quick response calms the fire before it can climb

 

Remembering the past, the excitement is long done

The old firehouse stands ready for one final, fire run

 

The fire house in the photograph is the former fire department headquarters in Cambridge, Maryland.  It sits empty today, waiting for its next assignment.

 

Mom’s Summer Woes

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Summer finally arrives

Breaking from school routines

Children eager, excited, hyper-filled, energized

When does Mom ever get to take a break?

 

Chauffeuring children everywhere

Swimming lessons, sports camps

Gas tank never seems full

When does Mom get to run to a special place?

 

Thunderstorms pop up

Bringing their usual culprits

Rain, wind, hail, lightning, thunder

How did Mom’s new umbrella end up in the yard?

 

Enjoyable family gatherings

Long picnics, games aplenty

Lots of tasty food prepared

But Mom—why are we picking up a bucket at KFC?

 

Travel plans made

Laundry, packing, laundry, repacking

Mom still must be “Mom”

When does Mom get to enjoy “her” vacation?

 

School arrives again

Summer finally over—finally!

Bus leaves with the kiddos

Why does Mom hit the snooze again?

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Dang Jack Rabbit

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Bill runs into his neighbor Fred at the local feed store.  In conversation, Bill tells Fred, “I noticed that there back tire on yer truck is a mite bit low on tread.”

Fred replies back, “Ah, dat there tire has quite a few miles left da go.”

The men depart and finish up their business in town before heading back home.  As Bill drives down the road, he comes upon Fred’s truck, rolled over on its side, off of the road.

Bills stops and surveys the situation.  Fred appears okay, much of his cattle feed is scattered on the ground, and the suspected tire has blown nearly clean off of the rim.

Bill calmly asks Fred what has happened.  With eyes growing bigger by the second, Fred excitedly tells him, “A vig jack rabbit nearly ran me self off this here road.  Look vat he did to ma perfectly good tire.”

I appreciate you stopping to read another of these very short stories.  If you missed my previous micro short stories, you can find them from the links below.  Enjoy!

Renewing Rain

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From Isaiah 45:8:  “Shower, O heavens, from above, and let the skies rain down righteousness; let the earth open, that salvation may spring up, and let it cause righteousness t sprout up also; I the Lord have created it.”

Rain showers continuously hydrate the lands

Sending restoring moisture from God’s hands

 

Perhaps God’s design will deliver to rinse off me

Washing away transgressions that affix on thee

 

Flowers, grass, and trees experience joy now

Smiling as additional raindrops take their bow

 

This errant life feels God’s restoring spirit of the rain

Helping me to reconcile and move away from pain

 

The clouds hang low, soon rain comes again

Witnessing Christ’s love, forgiving all our sin

 

Temperatures remain cool, clouds shroud the light

Feeling God’s lasting affection, realizing His might

 

My disposition cools, harsh feelings evaporate

Praying to my Lord, as the darkness grows late

 

God continually watches over His creation

Looking down from above, smiles of elation

 

For me, a blood-stained cross forever stands near

Thanking Jesus for bringing Salvation, without fear

 

Nature comes alive as the rains abate

Growing with God’s love, will be its fate

 

An imperfect man such as me, steps from sin’s shadows

Kneeling before God, forgiven for my disobedient travels

Solitary Man

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Traveling across the vast land, never on the run

Asking for a ride with his hand’s seasoned thumb

Hitchhiking along the seldom traveled highways

Hoping to catch a few rides over several days

 

Walking alone at times, never needing a hand

Being solitary in nature, just because he can

Sleeping nearby the road most nights

Rolling out a bed, brings him no fright

 

Yes, he travels the road as a solitary man

 

Stopping at many little towns on the map

Moving on, there ain’t even time for a nap

Raining on a mid-morning, soaking him to the skin

Drying out beneath a tree, God smiles back at him

 

Checking his road map, nearby a highway junction

Determining at a glance, how the day will function

Catching a delicious meal at the next town

Tasting the meatloaf, known by all around

 

Yes, he travels the road as a solitary man

 

Having no family to ever call upon and see

Feeling alone at times, how his life will be

Spending a quiet night in an uncomfortable hotel bed

Waking up early, doesn’t feel quite right in his head

 

Experiencing nature in a perfect setting

Seeing more than most, never fretting

Baking under a blistering, burning sun this afternoon

Looking forward to a cool evening under a full moon

 

Yes, he travels the road as a solitary man

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Thanks for walking a few moments with the Solitary Man.  Perhaps his mind still fills with sad memories of lost loves as singer and songwriter Neil Diamond wrote in his song version of “Solitary Man.”

If you are eager to read more, take a look back at two different types of poems that relate to “Solitary Man” in a couple of different ways.  You will find a similar Christian theme in Everlasting Road while more humor is found in Still a Desperate Man.

 

 

 

 

Class of ’74

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The excitement of high school stands quietly now

All alumni remember, having taken their final bow

Somewhere in the background, singing from above

British vocalist Lulu sings again, “To Sir With Love”

 

As youth, daydreaming of playing for the Golden Bears

To proudly wear the gold and white with spirit and flair

Gridiron warriors bare their souls and accomplish more

A championship berth misses by a single game’s score

 

Determined grapplers take down each and every contender

These wrestlers secure gold, no longer seen as pretenders

Teamwork and tenacity deliver wins on the hardwood

Basketball championship arrives, because they could

 

Daily routines pack every academic day

Lunchtime jukebox in the cafeteria plays

The staff educates with authority and motivation

Always with immense pride and lasting dedication

 

Like a human compass, Mr. Fox draws a perfect shape

Dressed as a cowboy, Mr. Ensign imparts history’s fate

As dependable as a clock, Mrs. Brush teaches math each day

With surprising humor, Mr. Welchlin makes geology fun to play

 

Days filled with books, manual typewriters, and slide rules

Never imagining computers that today’s students find cool

Ah, the memories still live for so many after these years

Careers, families, and challenges drive us without fear

 

The years advance as more gray hair arrives

However, keen minds remain strong and alive

Never forgetting, these high school years stand tall

Filling hearts and minds, memories continue for all

 

These memories give you a glimpse into my final high school year at Billings West High School.  Yes, it was way back in 1974, now 45 years ago this month.  God has blessed me to remember these events and happenings from long ago.

A year ago at this time, I was leaving the classroom again.  After 40 years as a classroom teacher, activities director, and coach, I was passing on the torch to other colleagues to continue on.  Enjoy a previously published poem that many of you probably missed in Teacher’s Final Day.