Wild things

Wild things
You’re under my skin
Calling me back
To your island convention

I’m a spy, an outsider
Armed with telephoto capability
Uninvited I stare
Insulated, from my car

A nine dollar ferry crossing- cash only
Brings me to you
Your all-you-can-eat buffet
And a taste of your wildness

Your golden eyes enchant

Haunt. Stare. Hunt.
Like ghosts you appear out of nowhere
When the sun sinks low in the sky

In the last 90 minutes of daylight
Suddenly your round white forms are everywhere
I lose count
And try not to slide off the road and into the water

Just for now you’re resting here
On this tiny island in the ocean-lake
By the dozens- look at you all!
How can this be?

How do you know to come here
After flying over parking lots, shopping malls, forests
Who whispers of this rural feast
Dinner squeaking and rustling under the grass

How do you know
Do you hear? Do you smell?
Is it passed down from your parents
Or told through screams and flight

You’re on your way home to a place
No human has ever seen
Mysterious, barren, cold
Ellesmere, Ungava, the eternal summer sun

So today I’ll sit with you
Slow my breath
Maybe you’ll habituate to my presence
In other words, forget about me

Maybe I can watch you in your world
For a few moments
Capture it without your permission
And keep it

Hold your image
In a box of wires and light
Keep you with me forever




  1. Wow! I love the sunset silhouette. Your poem..so real. I esp. love the line driving off into the water! I too have driven off the roads looking for “the special” shot! Funny.

  2. Love your poem!

  3. Bravo, your words, your photos – I’m there too.

  4. Great Pictures!

  5. Thank you Leslie for taking me along through your poetic and photo-friendly journey. Simply beautiful!

  6. Ditto, to what Maria said. We must plan another journey together.

  7. Hey Leslie, My niece just posted this to my fb. Love the poem…and as always great photos!

    • Hi Nancy! Surviving the eternal winter? My favourite photo of yours from this winter was the blown ice on the park bench. c-c-c-cold!

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