Daily Diary, Day 768:
MISTER NOMAD BEAR
A long shadow in the tangerine sun,
Nomad Bear
stalks the steaming breath
of ringed seal.
Called to the breathing hole;
each,
like homing prodigals,
haunts the silent ice.
Moving prone,
the hunter
mimes his wary prey,
plunges
his toggled spear
red
into glistening black.
—Joseph Locke
His poetry always evokes exactly what he wishes to communicate. In this poem ones sees, feels, smells the bear, the seal, the water, the cold...he was a marvelous poet.
From my dear Papa Joe.