BEAVER SIGN
\n(for my brothers)<\/p>\n
We can smell them
\nlong before we see
\nthe fallen cottonwood
\non the other bank,
\nor the pale bones
\nof chewed stumps.
\nIt\u2019s a blend
\nof resin and musk,
\nstronger than any church incense.
\nMore like a song
\nit drifts against the wind
\nfollowing the steelhead
\nupstream. Such places
\nobey different laws
\nthan we obey. Our father
\ntaught us
\nto be taught
\nby signs like this.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Donald Mitchell live in Deming, WA on his family’s 130 year-old homestead. He is a self-published poet and his works include the collections Signs of Faith,<\/a> The Shark Skin Man: A Story and Poems,<\/a><\/em> and Hello Eternity.<\/em> <\/a>Raised by a preacher who was also a woodsman and fur trapper, he found an early draw to the soul of the woods and streams of the Nooksack River watershed. This attraction led him to interests in biology, anthropology, comparative culture and religion and the perilous art of making poems.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" BEAVER SIGN (for my brothers) We can smell them long before we see the fallen cottonwood on the other bank, or the pale bones of chewed stumps. It\u2019s a blend of resin and musk, stronger than any church incense. More … Continue reading