|Nanook's Paddling Poetry|
On the heels of long hard winter
comes the springtime warm and lush.
Thatís when I point my boat upriver,
where the freshet waters rush.
Where the pools are deep and tannic,
alder branch bobs, dips and weaves.
Dreams of beaver, buck and bannock
ride the breeze in the rustling leaves.
In a sky of shocking blue
clouds billow breathlessly.
My boat glides lightly, swift and true
to the call of the chickadee.
Stream winds softly through the meadow,
every turn is fresh and new.
Stand up from your seat and lo!
Nature's secrets speak to you.
Do you know what lies before you?
Do you know where the dark waters go?
The river works its wonders for you
when youíre going with the flow.
Nanook of the Nashwaak
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