![]() This time last year I joined a two week expedition across the frozen lakes and forests of Northern Ontario. For days a small group of us pulled toboggans containing tents, stoves, food through miles of the Canadian wilderness. It was a disorienting experience, I am unbelievably glad I did it but still have no idea why! Made solitary,
We came out of the wilderness Through eight days of snow and the grinding wind Along the ways of the Cree and over the creaking lake A land where the dragging earth and the heavens were separated By no more than the distant smudge of White Cedar, Spruce and Fir. And the translucent hide of a weary sun Faltered at the edge of the world All life seemed suspended Only the circling hawk The marks of lynx, otter and snowshoe hare And ourselves bore witness that things breathed upon this land. We were bent like old people against the strain, As frost biting fingers reached up through the slush and grasped And clawed at the underside of our toboggans Making us curse and sweat even as the ice froze around our legs and feet. And each night we had built our camp, Cutting the bushy branches from the spruce to lay over the snow and frozen waters Swinging axes against standing dead wood to fire a battered stove, Scraping a hollow to catch the depth of the cold Pulling stiff, reluctant, ill-fitting canvas over frame Sawing a hole though dark ice to draw up brown water Then dropping into a half-sleep watching in the rigid darkness. That we might feed the flickering flame Until we woke before dawn And began again. To downtown Where people greet you with razor wire smiles, Eyes narrowed against the neon wind And the scent of cinnamon, clove and hot oil lingers outside from the whirling eye Of the Lebanese restaurant, The sweet sour smoke from the snout of a Chinese dragon Frets upon on the sidewalk Above which the towers of the possessed rise like giant fists with outstretched fingers And the sports bar zombies dance to silent flashing screens Like renegades We might hold onto the wilderness keeping The songs of our days like lightening in a jar As we walk towards the first embrace of loneliness. In this wasteland of dreams Steve Bonham 2017
1 Comment
6/1/2020 04:51:58 am
It is a great adventure that we can enjoy in this cold weather. A weather that will open new adventure to the people. This will open our eyes to the world that is not yet discovered. A new realm that we should try to appreciate. This point of view may be different to what we all know, but we will see the bigger picture if we will just try to understand the feeling in a cold weather.
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