Ontario North Country '68

White caps pouncing

paddles piercing each

 tiny rivulet

dancing canoes, each bobbing

swiftly into the narrows

trees outlined, green branches

waving under a breeze of torrent

dark-skins paddling slowly

days of trap-line winters

and spring catches are gone

when the mighty

pike were whoppers.

We hammer away at the

stillness, dark gushes roaring

past the sleek Peterborough,

triggered by thirty-five

powerful horses -- trees rushing

by and twenty more miles

means an hour of damp faces,

wet clothes clinging to our

backs. Glistening rifle barrels

speak danger, excitement

in the fear of a defiant moose

paints images in our minds.