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CONTRASTING WAYS The wide brush of summer, painting frosts early sting, Then a green belt over hills each coming spring, the snows of winter fading with a blindman's cane, touching the arctic beauty, across the tundra plain. The grazing caribou are ready to move in haste, my eyes searching for the hunter, preying for their taste, watching, standing, then stalking for one of the lame, A drifting predator wolf, in pursuit of its game. Fish kiss the rising waters causing ripples to wink, at the skies blue moral reflection and I think, How tranquil the sun remains never setting for a rest, while the call of wild geese, breaks the silence flying west. A shrill cry causes the caribou to stampede, their legs swiftly bounding, matching the hunters speed, the young panic from the danger some have never seen, the herd pays it's tariff from it's weak and it's lean. A loon rises, while gentle southerly winds blow, over a wondrous stream, bandying in it's flow, I record it as my eyes glance to the moving hill, where waters swell over, forming a mist from it's chill. Concluding I wondered, was this for all to see, stumbling across the tundra or was it only me, viewing a peril journey, with beauty and appeal, and lonely tamarisks listening to what I feel. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2005-12-31 18:58:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.71875
A wonderful story of our Canadian North. Rhyme is fairly good. Could use a little tightening up here and there.Fish kiss the rising waters...an original line. Good one Arvin.