a birch bark canoe, to the waters I did bring,

to cut the waters and make them sing,

stroke by stroke, I've been paddling,

I push the water's weight aside,

forever struggling against the tide,

but the journey's long and the river's wide.


I rise with the rising of the sun,

to cover miles before day is done,

to put miles behind is all I've won,

I gain no glory, I gain no fame,

I am forgotten, I have no name,

I only journey to from whence I came.




The End

8 comments about this poem Feed