image from pinterest.com
“Life will reveal all to you when the time is right
and the moon is bright.”--Guru S. Gill.
In the great northern forests where Sasquatch has
been seen and not seen, where winter has stabbed
into the heart of autumn with icicle stilettos and
deep dangerous freezes, there are isolated places
where there is no man’s track, no smell of tobacco,
no tread-marks, no oder of alcohol, no garbage, no
zap of neon, sirens or horns.
There is a snow wraith that prowls in the deepest
shadows, striking fear into the hearts of cougar,
bear, and men, that possesses granite muscles
undulating beneath a striped mantle, a little
monster with musk sacs, part bear, part badger,
part skunk, with savage ferocity and courage
equaled nowhere--the white wolverine.
Only a few men have ever seen the albino Carcajou,
but I have many times, in my mind, seen the glorious
swath from the powerful shoulders to the base of its
great bushy tail, and the fearsome black-green weasel
eyes, and the razor fangs that can crush bone or bite
through a metal roof. I have seen the skunkbear
sitting back on its haunches like a wolf, and it has
From Winter’s skull cap,
it expects me, as I leave
the stink of cities behind.
Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub