SONG OF THE FROGS

Port Albion just before sunset

Song of the frogs

in the fading light

soft fade the hills

in the falling night

God touching earth

with a gentle might

and all is beauty

within my sight

Soft falls the light

on garden walls

a rose-hued mountain

as night's curtain falls

a froggy symphony

serenades the night sky

and grateful, grateful,

grateful,

I.

*********************

ODE TO A HERON

Graceful heron

swooping across

the evening sky

like a pteradactyl,

Prehistoric bird

perched

on a treetop,

my heart swoops

with you,

then stills,

standing beside

the silent pond,

waiting for the night

to settle

around us both

as softly

as feathers.

***

These poems were written in 1999, when I lived, for a few months, in tiny rooms in Port Albion,  a small community outside Ucluelet, where Pup ran wild. We were joyous. We lived by this pond at the foot of a mountain, which turned rosy pink every afternoon before sunset. Our next move was heartbreaking, away from the west coast, inland to Port Alberni, where we mourned together our lost wilderness.

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