put some miles on my boots
this week past
maybe some fifty miles
the same and same trails
In snow and slush and mud and dust
and a sun that throws daily different shadows
It’s fast, this business of spring
And I have made fast miles to keep up
slip-slush-splash and a few miles in wet jeans
That chafe and tug
what of it? It’s ice and mud
and laugh it off and welcome the sun
Did it again the next day, too
and again and again with sore feet and
giggling like the white goose flying
the first one shot
a hundred bucks to the gun
blue lake ice and then the same ice pitted
caribou antlers bend like mossy rubber
and in two days the white slough buckles under the bank
and disappears and unveils the carcasses of salmon
lying glinting in the river like silver gold
And dried on the sand like paper cranes
girl prints and caribou moon prints
by the gravel bar where bears are
and wolf toenails and boot heels
cutting the sand on the driftwood bank
slush steps fast-sinking in the melting lake
and the moon fading in the summering sky
this hurrying business of spring
is dancing miles on my boots
this week past
maybe some fifty miles
chasing piggens 