|
Nanook's River Poetry | |
| Alder Green |
Burpee Mill Stream. Have you run it? My uncle Brian ran it on a wooden raft long ago.
When drifts of snow and ice rise high
and winter's winds of white still fly,
is it too soon to start to dream
of boating on a sunlit stream?
Will this be the spring at last
like springs I knew in seasons past,
when streams ran deep and blue and clean
by meadows clad in alder green?
My thoughts are fond of streams I know
where once again I'd like to go.
Then I hear the siren call
of virgin rivers, great and small.
As the days of March extend
onward to the winter's end,
so I scheme to venture forth
on streams in forests of the North.
Reach out and touch a rock
|
Bronson Road |
Doug Doremus, Nepisiguit River
Hear Nanook recite this poem.
