The Last Buffalo

March 29, 2026 Poet: Andy Anderson Artwork: The Last Buffalo by Stanley Smith

The Last Buffalo

When you’re down

to your last buffalo

you know you’ve hit bottom.

The good life had dried up

wind-blown to the four directions.

gone forever blue skies dotted with eagles

opportunity as far as the eye.

It wasn’t the buffalo’s fault

innocent, caught in greed’s history

that scattered his people to distant, unkind cities.

Little Creek’s personal story

exiled to a different life, different lies,

different buffalos.

Real life to a metaphor of life

just as real, just as deadly.

Make that a double, Joe.

Here’s to the last buffalo.