Monthly Archives: July 2018


I went into the woods

to count the countless trees,

where three hundred years

is young,

found they indeed have a number

the ancient mossy stumps of giants

felled long ago

host seedlings that may never


to the heights of their ancestors

while the wind through the pine boughs

are whispered legends, myths in Mi’kmaq

quietly told to others who will never understand.

© Erik Hansen 2018


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Filed under American, Contemporary, Creative Writing, Diversity, Edges, Literature, outdoors, Poetry, Publishing, Self Publishing, Writing

I am one of The Men That Don’t Fit In

“There’s a race of men that don’t fit in,

A race that can’t stay still;

So they break the hearts of kith and kin,

And they roam the world at will.

They range the field and they rove the flood,

And they climb the mountain’s crest;

Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,

And they don’t know how to rest.”

Robert W. Service


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