HERMIT OF GULLY LAKE - poem

By Richard L. Provencher

Thu, 10 Jan 2008
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1 comments
 

Hermit of Gully Lake

In 1940 days people say Willard Kitchner
MacDonald jumped a troop train --

“No war for me,” said the young man for
peace, became a friend to the wild that creeps
and hovers in the night near Earltown, Nova
Scotia

hiding from stripes, army boots following
through ferns seeking his hideaway in a
forested sanctuary.

But you fooled them laddie, chasing deer
joining cottontails in the moonlight, singing
along with loons, their melancholy.

Too soon eagles soar in memory, friends
missing those shy chats in the woods of
your passing.

A wintry landscape took your footsteps away
for one last savouring.

Epilogue…
When Willard sought
silence in his mind, he watched
the plunge of streams
one upon another
growing larger in their
passing, a whim for the day

and footprints matched
the stare of sun on
each footpath
traversed the ridges, observed
valleys in bloom, a
touching of life
for fur and feathers within, his
land a place for all seasons.
Now we are kin in the remembering.

* * *

Certificate U
POETRY - A Passage of Motion 1
Miscellaneous

Comments

Submitted by Richard L. Prov... on
Willard is now the subject of folklore. He recently had a film completed on his life. Yes, he actually lived in the deep woods from 1940 to recently when he died in the woods, just to escape being caught as a deserter, which he wasn't. The book is available and well written by an author who did much research on him. RLP
Richard L. Provencher