One by one the bonfires come
snapping loud and leaping high –
orange dancers in the night
with gray scarves twirling in the sky.
One by one the bonfires go
stepping slowly out of sight,
long gray scarves about their arms –
tired dancers in the night.
Wind Dance, Scholastic Canada, 1999
Hanging tongue and tail,
she crossed the road
more like a dry leaf
than a yearling doe;
we saw her go
in front of us
soon after sun
and rifles had gone down.
She ran no more to hide
but to come upon
some brook the other side.
Nova Scotia, November, 1974
The river is a long and quiet place to be,
wide and contented, moving to the sea;
of slow tide and dark bank and tired stone,
far from its white streams, deep and alone.
Wide and contented, moving to the sea;
The river is a long and quiet place to be.
Kennebec River, 1964