Daily Whitman


The Torch

  On my Northwest coast in the midst of the night a fishermen's group
      stands watching,
  Out on the lake that expands before them, others are spearing salmon,
  The canoe, a dim shadowy thing, moves across the black water,
  Bearing a torch ablaze at the prow.



Posted on 06/05/2015, in literature, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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