Jim been waiting awhile now
by another river
for something unknown – free and finally
removed from Finn
knowing full well most none could never
really enjoy his side
could understand those days, that time,
a sense of something
don’t nobody quite get.
Tonto never liked a river as much
as a plain or a prairie
but thirst changes a mind fast.
Tonto never liked knowing what that world
thought of him
nor even what the Ranger did
and those stories about folks like Joe was the kind
that gave him a bad name.
Jim and Tonto – two of a different kind
sit on the bank
in a heaven that they
supposed was to be reserved for
masters, colonizers and their kin.
but there’s no Mississippi and no Arizona
no Great Lakes, no states or territories here.
Here Tonto is called by his Spanish name – Toro.
Skin in the sun. Water on their feet. Resting.
Exchanging tales fit for Coyote and Brer Rabbit.
Telling tales that couldn’t fit in books and radios.
Owning the last laugh. Keeping it.
Putting down a claim and a stake. Settling on this.
Making the joke a new nation.
A place without promises just good fishing,
good hunting, good land,
just and good