The consumption of the Nass

Another night of rain, away
in the distance, the tak tak tak
of the Sapsucker weakening trees.

I live in a territory
operations men think remote
when it's Natural land is clean land, it's why
it seems so far away, why
the original virtue of unexhausted land
is spoiled by men who
cannot keep their hands off.

Now they begin, the tongues, the
Tanager and Warbler, Blue Bird
and Thrush. Now they find their voices,
an occasion for missing souls
to sympathize.

And when I'm gone, the next guy
will be selling tires, gasoline,
roadside coffee, live bait.