My following poem was written to introduce my novel of the same name. It is about a seasonal rite in Canada's far north.
When the white birds come from the south the season changes
Gone is the snow revealing the earth rotting and giving life.
The big wing gulls come from across the mountains
Riding the thermals to reach their nesting grounds.
Below the black birds wait, finding order in chaos
Pecking their way through the town's garbage.
The white birds swoop claiming their summer roosts.
The black birds rise to fight the invader
Their cawing scratching the blue enamel sky.
But there is no doubt about the outcome.
The black birds retreat leaving the white birds to nest by the lakshore.
When the snow returns the white birds leave to fly back to their Pacific home.
The black birds reclaim their winter ground with its cold heart and dark days.
It is nature's cycle.