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Little Light Moccasin
- Syracuse University Press
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271 Little Light Moccasin Little Light Moccasin swings in her basket, Woven of willow and sinew of deer, Nursed by the pine tree and rocked by the breezes, Wonderful things are to see and to hear. Wide is the sky from the top of the mountain, Sheltered the cañon from glare of the sun, Ere she is wearied of watching their changes, Little Light Moccasin finds she can run. Brown is her skin as the bark of the birches, Light are her feet as the feet of the fawn, Shy little daughter of mesa and mountain, Little Light Moccasin wakes with the dawn. All of the treasures of summertime cañons, These are the playthings the little maid knows, Berry time, blossom time, bird calls and butterflies, Columbine trumpet and sweet brier rose. Bear meat and deer meat, with pine nuts and acorns, Handfuls of honeycomb dripping with sweet, Taboose of joint grass the meadows provide her, Bulbs of wild hyacinth, pleasant to eat. When on the mesa the meadow lark stooping Folds his barred wings on the low hidden nest, Called by the condor and hushed by the elf owl, Little Light Moccasin goes to her rest. Counting the stars through the chinks of the wickiup, Watching the flames on its leafy walls leap, 272 Hearing the song of the wind in the pine trees, Little Light Moccasin falls fast asleep. Editor’s Notes Land of Sunshine, April 1899, 261. ...