Fond du Lac, Saskatchewan

We paddled 175km over nine days in northern Saskatchewan, sharing food, laughter, mosquitoes, and tons of fun with friends to inspire the following poem 🙂

I wait on a beach in Northern Saskatchewan
for aurora borealis to arrive.
My friends, modern nomads, tuck in
to yellow, blue, orange and green domes.
Sandstone hills and evergreen trees rise
above marshy grass.
Beneath a still surface
river current slides north toward Arctic,
mirror images of its shoreline
reaching for heaven.
Night hawks shoot skyward
torpedo down
wings bugling a haunting tune.
Therma-rests rustle
mosquitoes attack my ears
the world settles into a bedtime routine.
I think about waking up the others
with bear bangers on the beach.

Stream of Thought

Security%20Fence%201
(internet photo)

Noise.
Sounds and smells swirl.
A muddy pile
ready for trash can,
or possibly recycling.

Words recycle themselves
on the page,
powerless to escape
the strike of the pen.
Smooth ink flows.
A river confident in its strength,
its ability to carve landscapes,
reshape its borders.

Boundaries.
Fence posts to navigate.
Or, maybe, grab onto
if the water gets too rough.

Tumbled

Sights and sounds flow
swiftly by
tumbling me
shaping me
rolling me along the river of life

Radiant sunlight filters through
a canopy of leaves
dappled beams
scattered across my smooth surface
solar energy touching my rocky being
warmth absorbed

Rain drops add to the river
cares and worries pitter patter around me
howling wind and icy hail
roil the waters

Vibrant birds alight
colorful refractions shimmer across my hard surface
a dancing sparkle in the water
tempting
They peck
and peck and peck
then fly away
graceful wings growing smaller in the distance

I remain alone