The Northern Crown

The black earth just below the moss. It's headiness held down. On top a carpet green and soft The comfort of a crown. To walk is just a hop of heart A bounce a joy away. To feel it is to just relax A comfort I'm to play. A passing look, a fervent scene. A tree-line standing tall. Upon a hill; a mound of earth A feeling that I call. The Northern Star above the frost to guide my lazy eye. Where home is found and I am part of never ending sky. A walk between a ledge of trees My compass fresh Pine air. To come out in a swamp of dew Reflections that I care. My home a little cabin further. Walls of racked up logs. Out front a hound dog tied to feed an appetite of hogs. A smoke puff from a chimney top A signal someone's home. A maiden in an evening gown A wife if not a poem. My life in Northern Canada has brand me with it's scent. For those above it's parallel No time's been better spent.