“We’re free from Crown and Bishop here.”
“And from soldiers defending us.”
“We fight alone.”
So they marched to rescue a captured friend—-a different crown for them, or else a headdress of feathers. They brought the wounded enemies home to treat and purchased peace from the store of good relations. Wild ducks and geese were torn in half for the first Thanksgiving feast, and enemies sealed their friendship with venison.
Green leaves turned scarlet and gold under pale blue sky over wind-blown grass.
“They said we’d not last; be dead in a year.”
“I’m dead serious. We’re still here.”