|Wait for spring on the Nepisiguit!
June 9, once upon a time. Perfect weather.
May 20, 2007. Snow, rain, cold winds blow.
We are but travelers drifting by
on the endless flow of time.
The rocks, the trees, the stream, the sky
must pass, no matter how sublime.
The swirling wake behind the blade
dwindles in a trice,
The campfire ring beneath the glade
Swept clean by freshet's ice.
Will we move on without a trace
To show that we were here?
Will no one know our voice, our face,
year after passing year?
Yet I know I will live on
long after my life goes.
Though no one mourn me when I'm gone,
I know the river knows.
Nanook of the Nashwaak
Reach out and touch a rock
Click here to hear Nanook recite this poem.
Siren Song of the Clearwater
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