This poem is taken from Stand 239, 21(3) September - November 2023.
Two Poems
Skeekit
Once, my father took us to Skeekit
the warm wind rising from the Fraser Canyon
to the mountain tops, where we spread
our sleeping bags under sequined aspens
...
Once, my father took us to Skeekit
the warm wind rising from the Fraser Canyon
to the mountain tops, where we spread
our sleeping bags under sequined aspens
...
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