Muskeg Spring Be careful You’ll miss it The hints of the spring. The blooms from the muskeg The geese on the wing. The vast glacial sculptures That trickle and flee. The lichen in colour But nary a tree. The wolf pups now yipping The open Bay rolls. The flukes of leviathan; One looks long for those. And sun at this mid-gray At all kinds of hours; Enough for the bushes and Insects and flowers. Who race through their cycle In furious form, With mercury rising Slim chance to get warm. And this is our country And these are our friends Who course through The tundra Beyond where land ends. And life Is a slim thread That wends through Their earth; And shouts at The challenge Of death and of birth. Of boreal curtains That hang in the sky, Til spring brings The wonderful Midnight sun nigh.