April poems from the Cariboo

Chimney smoke clots the nostrils
I can feel the beginnings of a sneeze, a snort
A wheeze.
Air is heavily laden with moisture
Black smoke sifting down
To the ground

An Old Log House

Old log house built
In 1927
Still habitable
My brother’s friend
Lives there along with his dogs
Carl and Tessie
And a black cat
With an attitude.
We visit the resident human
My brother and his dog
Named Rusty
And the dogs visit too.
So many old buildings
In the Cariboo
Abandoned for decades
Still valiantly upright
Roof shakes missing
Floor boards rotting
Logs lustrous with age
Nice to see an old log house
Still occupied

Log House in the Bushes

Built after the First World War
When hope enveloped the world
No more wars
No more epidemics
Time to reach out toward the wilderness
Leave the city. Take the train.
Wife, children, parents
Walk, ride horseback
Into the great unknown.

When Siblings Converse

We talk and we differ
In thought and perspective
Based on experience
Suppositions reflective
We walk through our childhood
Adolescence and youth
I married young and he was not couth
Now we are old in a state of decline
We chat and we chat
Until it’s past nine

Easter Sunday

For Easter Sunday dinner
We had salmon and creamed corn
A store bought pie and Cool Whip
And some coffee left from morn

Jack sang a song about Jesus
‘Twas fitting for the day
We launched into our repast
Listening to old tapes he played.