The Blue Tortoise

Precious memories

Fill one with profound yearning

So sweet, so cruel

When I speak of them

I am lost for words and weep

They are my children

I assessed the tree

Pruning offending branches

As if a court judge

Black flies aplenty

Surgeons of the Margaree

Salmon were running

When in the Rockies

I thought I heard kettle drums

Sounding like thunder