(pre) AT GOLDEN BEAR
The raven calls the evening tide under sunsets pastel dome
The river and the sea collide and driftwood fires speak of home
The river waits the Autumn rain the taste of which would bring the spawn
The salmon feels the river’s pain, at river’s mouth he lingers on
The pristine redwoods scar the sky above the sand spit’s torrent arc
The Island coyote’s puppies cry as sea birds settle before dark
Around the camp a fire’s glow attracts as old friends gather there
And talk of those they used to know fond memories they love to share
As fishing camps have always been, those on the Klamath are the same
The smoke house smell the tale to tell the laughter at the poker game
The journey of the salmon’s call ends in its death, yet brings no tears
He scales the mountains, gives his all, as he has done ten thousand years
So once again the season drew the fisher men from every where
Again the old hands and the new enjoy God’s gifts at Golden Bear. Fish Hawk 9/14/13
Would love to enjoy some of that fresh salmon....YUM!
Love the poem you wrote....thank you!
Now, pass the salmon, please!
Your trip sounds wonderful..Thank you for the poem describing it..Wish we were there for a salmon feast!