Something has gotta be said here. (Al Purdy)

Born on an island
Well, almost.
Prince Edward County.
Marshes, tight farms, birding
Wartime airstrip
Bass fishing in Quinte.
(Try it the Indian way,
But don’t get caught.)
He couldn’t stay settled.
Hit the rails to
Far West.
Box-car encounters.
Hobo living.
Work sporadic.
Smokes and eating
Out of cans.
Air force foray.
Timber, farming, packing plants.
Mostly for experience.
Human hearts, conditions
Weighed into inventory.
Also nature up close.
Reptilian bones.
Following a fox.
Frozen lake
Surface crystalizing
Like magic.
Took on the Far North too.
Chuckling incidents with huskies
Awe-striking borealis.
Child-like friends
And guileless.
Dear old Al.
Ours, and proud of it