Tuesday, January 13, 2009
The buffaloes are gone.
And those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
Those who saw the buffaloes by thousands and how they pawed the
prairie sod into dust with their hoofs, their great heads down pawing on in a
great pageant of dusk,
Those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
And the buffaloes are gone.
Hedgehog came home yesterday with this poem. For homework she had to answer some analytical questions about it. I asked her how the poem made her feel; she said "Mama, I was choked up with tears when I first read it." They are studying the prairies, the frontier, the Plains Indians, and the pioneers, and this is how they are doing it. This is what they do in their second grade classroom; and this is why I believe in progressive, unorthodox education for children, more strongly than I believe in almost anything else in the world.
Poem by Carl Sandburg, image by buckchristensen, Flickr Creative Commons