I hurt.
My adventures playing chase through my mind;
Of hiking, skydiving, mountain climbing,
Of hunting, wrestling, and things of that kind.
From the arctic and its frozen waste lands
To Southeast Asia, I have widely roamed,
Using snowshoes or hiking jungles gloamed.
I hurt.
My adventures remind me every day
Of what it has cost me to pursue them.
Of many broken bones along the way;
Of torn muscles and tendons, I’ve received
Broken collars and shattered shoulder bones.
Now I hurt and feel so all alone.
I hurt
I have days I mainly stay in my bed.
Age has crept upon me like a leopard.
It is the devourer I now dread.
People think I’m strong, but don’t understand.
Pain is payment for my adventures then,
And remind me of glories way back when.
I sensed eyes on me but saw nothing but Arctic white
The sun was high, and the frozen crystals were sparkly bright.
My snowshoes stopped in the middle of the ice, as I looked around
I finally spotted an Arctic wolf pack, sitting quietly next to solid ground.
It is a Sasquatch said a child who has seen several I know.
It was hairy and tall, lumbering along in the deep snow.
Moving faster than most of us who are wearing snowshoes.
Is there ever a pair? Do we ever see them in two’s?
It’s an ape, probably has run off from the zoo, I bet.
Said my far-sighted neighbor, Mrs. Tootles McRett.
We did not know what it was but did not run after it either.
We are smarter than that said my cousin, Lordy McTeter.
my sister turned light chartreuse
after hearing on the news
the end is quite near
a blizzard all year
so we recommend snowshoes.
Veracity (story)
A horse galloped across a snowy field at the end of the pasture,
a fence jumped over a crazy gallop into the woods
came to a shuddering stop when meeting a moose
the moose charged the horse fled deeper into the woods were
the horse met a troll who took the animal into a cave and
served a bucket of hot chocolate drink
since the snow was deep that year, the troll also fitted the horse
with snowshoes and let it back to the field.
When the farmer came to the field and saw the shoes,
he had a nervous breakdown and was sent
to a clinic, where the doctors said it was all in his mind.
They wouldn’t let him free before he agreed
horses wear iron shoes and not snowshoes.
When he came back to the farm, the horse wore slippers.
There is a sting to winter’s kiss
cold memory reignited
a vision through watery eyes
a mirage of moments blighted
weary tracks of empty snowshoes
thinning lines on crest of hill
swallowed by a cloudless sky
the stinging bite of winter’s chill
crystal tracks of hardened teardrops
frozen on love’s time numbed cheeks
wait in silence as they listen
as love’s windblown distance speaks
John G. Lawless
©1/18/2022
prints of our snowshoes
ending where the trail is crossed
by a cougar's tracks
Jan. 16, 2022
For Tania Kitchin's
Winter Haiku Poetry Contest
checked by howmanysyllables.com
Here in Canada, we must wear snowshoes
Forever attached to our feet it's really big news
All over the world
Controversy swirls
Envisioning we never have summer and drink lotsa beer
Nearby are we to a beautiful lake,
the deepest one in the whole USA.
A trek to its rim we’re ready to take
on this wonderful snowy winter’s day.
Wearing our snowshoes, by sunlight’s first ray,
we go round Rim Drive; we’re well on our way!
At Windy Ridge, we can feel a light breeze
as we breathe in the air so crisp and clean.
Then onward we go, surrounded by trees.
This winter wonderland glistens – pristine,
and being a part of this perfect scene,
we cannot help feeling simply serene.
Beyond us on the horizon we see
the ridges of mountains outlined in blue.
White frosting adorns each tree prettily
when the best part of all comes into view!
It matches the sky’s most beautiful hue.
To gaze at this lake is all we can do!
A rose dusk turns into a sapphire night.
We camp underneath the brilliant starlight.
Dec. 29, 2018 for the Winter Wonderland Contest
and for Eve Roper's Sleeping Volcano Poetry Contest;
the Crater Lake was my inspiration.
A Springtime Weather Forecast
A springtime weather forecast.
Snowfall, blizzard, whiteout!
Snow drifting so deep,
Warrants snowshoes,
Sunglasses.
Don't go
Blind!
____________________________________
It was supposed to be
A simple snowshoe expedition
Nothing glamorous or too exciting
But the day started out magnificent
Gloriously sunny and mild
Ideal for newbies and amateurs
It felt like a girl guide outing
Average age was ten
The trail was awesome
Breathtaking on either side
Snow covered bushes as far as you could see
Glistening sprinkling of fairy dust
And here we were single file
A line up of colored tuques and snowsuits
Getting acquainted with our snowshoes
Making our imprints with every step
What a surprise awaiting around the corner
A huge bonfire
Who would have guessed
Roasting wieners on a branch
Best lunch we ever had
A most magical marvelous memory
When all was done and said
Nothing left but light fluffy snowflakes
Caressing the last few remaining embers
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
We got really dumped on yesterday
Was hoping we would miss out on this one
But must remember, this is Canada!
The land of ice and snow and parkas and snow shoes
At least that's the general perception
We have electricity and runny water and even indoor toilets
And not only that, we have radio
However, the powers that be are promising TV before 2020
Okay okay, I'm exaggerating a wee bit
We just recently got indoor plumbing
Hmmm, strangely my tongue seems to be stuck firmly in my cheek
But we are a hearty bunch
On January 1st every year, some of our real hearty dudes
Take a dip in the Ottawa River
They're called the “Polar Bear Club”
I have a different name for them!!!!!
I call them the “Those That Have A Screw Loose Club”
They urgently need to seek psychiatric help
As backward as we are, we DO have medicare... yee haw!
So we can take all kinds of risks we wouldn't normally take
Like clomping down the middle of our major thoroughfares
Making sure we watch out for the occasional snowmobile
And wearing our stylish snowshoes and parkas
A hearty bunch we are!!!
© Jack Ellison 2014
glittering snow falls
covering the earth in white
making her bridal
Gently yet persistently the snow falls cloaking all in a
white veil. Monstrous drifts block roads and paths.
How can people get to the church? The pastor waits wringing
his hands in despair. Soon the people arrive in sledges and
snowshoes. The bride no longer sparkling white, her gown is
torn and dirty from the journey. Today only one bride is
glistening and shining as more flakes fall clothing earth
in pristine white, yet she has no groom to wed.
icicles are forming
growing in all shapes and sizes
dangling sparkle
With time they grow longer and thicker. Forming many weird
shapes. At last a man of ice is born and quickly the pastor
says the vows ice and snow are joined and forever united.
As for the other bride she also said her vows and lived happily
soon forgetting it had not been perfect.
ice and snow are wed
together they form glistening gems
emitting pure white
Telling of Truths
A brown horse galloped across a snowy field at the end
of the pasture a fence, it jumped over and continued its
crazy gallop into the woods only came to a shuddering
halt when it saw a moose. Steaming nostrils, the moose
charged, horse fled deeper into the woods. Where it met
a forest troll who took it into his cave and gave the horse
a bucket of hot chocolate to drink. Since the snow deep
and tiring to sink into when walking, the troll also fitted
the horse with snow shoes; also, the troll had no need of
a horse led it back to its field. When the farmer came to
fetch his horse and saw the snowshoes, he had a nervous
breakdown and sent away to an asylum, where doctors
tried to convince him it was all in his mind. But the farmer
would have none of it. So he is still there and they will not
release him until he agrees with them that a horse wears
iron shoes and not snowshoes.
From Talkeetna by bush plane to a frozen bog
under the white gaze of Denali.
“Snow’ll be too soft to land this afternoon,”
our pilot says. “See you in the morning.”
He points to a wrinkle in the field of snow.
“Kroto Creek.” And then he’s gone.
Check topo map, take compass reading.
Strap on snowshoes. East to Kroto;
follow the creekbed north. Smaller drainage
from the west. Map-check. Drainage
runs the wrong direction. Keep walking.
Landmarks don’t match map.
Study USGS quad-sheet top to bottom.
Find a stretch of creek that fits.
Six miles from where we ought to be.
No longer lost – we now know
where we are. But does our pilot?
Will he find us in the morning?
Follow our tracks back to frozen bog
and packs, survival gear,
honey and granola to feed us
for at least a day. End of March, dark
comes early. Night thoughts, taloned, fly.
The closest road’s a world away.
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