Elder

There once was a tall tree,
It grew to be two hundred feet.
It was worshiped by the Cree,
To have good crops of wheat.

The Cree could not farm,
Bow and arrow were their sport.
Young bucks cut the tree’s forearms,
Before the elders could abort.

Elders wept at the cost,
Of such a great idol.
The last of its kind to be tossed,
No time for the idle.

Bucks became leaders,
Leaders of the blood bleeders.