As November unleashes its cargo of gales, here , two new pieces for your eyes – fresh from the pen, they will take you across the mighty Atlantic.
Old Guards’ Line
Inside blue boreal forest,
fireweed,
hidden gem,
dreams under northern lights,
coniferous silence,
in between
bogs and fens –
lone army of
Jackpines,
so heavily mantled,
stand as giant chessmen
from Newfoundland & Labrador to
the last rocks of Alaska.
—————–
Day of The Gale
Semantics from the SW sky
ruffles feathers as
salt buds fly –
curlews,
shalders, gulls,
sanderlings, purple
sandpipers on one leg
will bite the verve, dust, sleaze & lies
from this hissing storyteller.
Taste of salt plastered
on your lips.
© Nat Hall 2013
————————– Nov 2013
Filed under 2013, Arcania, atlantic, Canada, earth, geopoetics, island, north, poetry, shetland, spirit, verse poetry, writing
Tagged as 60N, atlantic, canada, north, poetry, shetland, stravaig, verse, winter, writing