Tidbits
When darkness turns
into night, eyes are
without light.
Climb higher, to
tall tree without branches
ridge over yonder hopes to be
part of an eagle’s soar,
travel, eat fresh fish
crows eat scraps, deal
with ridicule,
sun warms feathers
on a moral fable.
From Newfoundland
they came, B-Cers,
Sou’ Westers, Stetsons
and tight jeans
all part of the dance.
© Richard L. Provencher
Website: www.wsprog.com/rp/
Comments
Richard L. Prov... | March 29, 2008 - 13:02
I believe Nova Scotia is entering an unprecedented period of prosperity. Gold, oil, gas and other surprises are on the verge of development. In addition tourism has introduced this beautiful province to newcomers from all over, people like myself. My wife, Esther and I, visited in 1976 and then moved here in 1986. We continue to live in Truro, Nova Scotia in 2008. R&E
tcook | March 31, 2008 - 16:05
Your poetry is definitely improving - more show and less tell! It's also escaping from the maudlin and becoming all the more interesting for it. congratulations!
mikepyro | April 4, 2008 - 00:37
a unique and entertaining work.
very interesting and a good style of voice
I enjoyed it. well done and congrats on the cherry pick!