Let the Poles Bend

Let the Poles Bend

It’s the sparkle on the water
Whether it be fresh or salt
It doesn’t matter
It’s the calm before the rain
The awakening in dawn’s early light
The sunset’s golden and scarlet glow
Of which, no two are never the same
It’s the squirrel’s chatter
The doe’s motionless stare
The “slap” of the beaver
All fatter than pancake batter
It’s the warmth of a returning sun
The first buds of spring
The call of the gobbler
Soon winter will be outrun
But let us not forget
Those shimmering reflections
Among winter’s glory
So now let the poles bend
We have settled winter’s dept

Roy Bud Bonefish Nave