We saw Tonto


astride his palomino
a lookout on a low hill
against a clear blue sky

tanned buckskins, beads
red saddle cloth
red buttes in the distance

a world beyond the reach
of our monochrome TVs
a world you had to feel

where every school kid knew
that in this golden hour
the desert landscape shone

and it was real




Published by colinhopkirk

Poet, writer, artist. Writing and performing in England, publishing anywhere. Member of Hexameter performing poets. Workshops, projects, cross-arts collaborations.

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