Muskeg Spring

Be careful
You’ll miss it
The hints of the spring.
The blooms from the muskeg
The geese on the wing.
The vast glacial sculptures
That trickle and flee.
The lichen in colour
But nary a tree.
The wolf pups now yipping
The open Bay rolls.
The flukes of leviathan;
One looks long for those.
And sun at this mid-gray
At all kinds of hours;
Enough for the bushes and
Insects and flowers.
Who race through their cycle
In furious form,
With mercury rising
Slim chance to get warm.
And this is our country
And these are our friends
Who course through
The tundra
Beyond where land ends.
And life
Is a slim thread
That wends through
Their earth;
And shouts at
The challenge
Of death and of birth.
Of boreal curtains
That hang in the sky,
Til spring brings
The wonderful
Midnight sun nigh.


Note: Our son Jordan spent a period of fascinating time as an Arctic charter pilot. These are his memories as related to us. Presently he flies jet worldwide for Air Canada. Age thirty-five.