Poem: “In this moon of popping trees”

By Brian Wojtalewicz
Originally published in The Appleton Press on March 4, 2014.

In this moon of popping trees, my hiking partner Lobo is just not himself. The beautiful Husky gal he loves, Blue, is terrible sick, maybe dying.

In this moon of popping trees, the human allies of the rats, moles and mice are killing lots of coyotes.

In this moon of popping trees, the ground has been very hard, and the air has been hard too.

In this moon of popping trees, the locals have been doing a lot of whining, even some of our snowbirds down in Texas have been whining.

In this moon of popping trees, my left leg plunged through the ice, and the Pomme de terre took my snowshoe when I yanked my leg back up, but after fishing around with my bamboo ski pole, it gave it back.

And in this moon of popping trees, Bald Eagles are still gliding over our little village.

And In this moon of popping trees, one of my granddaughters chose to moon her mates at daycare.

Keep up your spirit, in this moon of popping trees.

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