Buffalo Nickel
“We put you on a nickel,” the rancher came to say And showed it to the bison on that cold September day. The furry beast side-eyed the coin, head tilted at the man, “Why put me on the nickel?” And so the man began:
“It’s honor,” he explained, enthused, teeth glinting in the sun. “Be proud to see yourself on coins, and flags, and seals, and guns.” The bison flicked her tail at that and bitterly replied, “You should have asked. Us buffalo don’t care for human ‘pride.’”
“Us buffalo, we have no use for trinkets or for change, We’ve seen enough of that across our sacred former range. We never asked for statues or some ‘honored’ designation, Coins cannot buy back the lives long lost across the nation.”
“We put you on a nickel,” the rancher came to say. The animal just snorted, kicked the dirt, and turned away. Alone she walked across the modest metal-sided pen, Where thousands of her kind once roamed and never would again.
