The Forest

This is a poem I wrote several years ago but it just surfaced again unexpectedly, so I thought I would share. In the northernmost territories, where bald eagles circle their prey Smaller birds are stalked in the open sky by men with pellets of clay Grey wolves run in morning packs across the deep and…

The little one

The little one has mucus gathered at her nose this evening and she lays in my arms unpurring and still, onyx eyes open.   Her tiny animal heart  beats at a speed she surely cannot take for too long.   My fingers touch it, fluttering wildly in the cage of her ribs, beneath her front limbs  when…

Splintered fences

There are morning crows on the splintered fences, yakking and pushing each other around.  The first crunches of ice on the ground, these cheap boots that let the water in. I want this all to be over.  I want it only to begin. I long to reach in to the gut and the lungs and…

Words from a rugged master

Tonight I felt like sharing three of my favourite Jim Harrison poems.  He was able to capture incredible beauty and inspire a deep love of the natural world in a way that was simple, pure and raw.  I love the powerful combination of grit and tenderness in his words.   Enjoy. Seven in the Woods…

The mountains have long stood

The mountains have long stood and guarded the plains, while a thousand summer evenings have sighed and slept.   They have seen children created and homesteads blown away by western winds that through the valleys have swept.   They judge not but they keep their faces to the light and in the evening they tenderly…

A simple longing

​Here in the clamorous night my fingers upon your mouth the summer birds seek shores  untouched by rain, silver and silent in their flight. And I can think of no greater joy beneath these wild oyster stars than to fall asleep in the cold grass and be licked awake by daylight.

The mouths of the stars

It’s burning and it’s brittle, this strange and little thing of ours; Sometimes I see the wings of the sun, then the gaping mouths of the stars, And can I help it, if I can’t stop dreaming of you? I wish you would lay down beside me, in the weightless cradle of the night, and…

These feelings

In the softest shades of the night He spoke to me, Of chasing lions from the mountains To the level of the sea, Of curious, frozen fingers Upon aged sycamore trees, Of the feelings he has, But cannot give freely. It has long seemed a wonder to me, How words sputter forth Clouded mysteries, How…

We are all naked

O sun despairing Bound to serve Soften the soil Our last preserve Victory grows not From bloodied dirt But the bones of children Are tipped into the earth Shall they return now To their sleeping valleys To their winter skies And mountains untamed? We tell their stories Neglect their names And farm the fields In…