Tag Archives: Spring

Whiskey Jack, Whiskey Jack

  To The Whiskey Jack Eight years old in northern Sask and chopping wood, My axe is poised o’erhead to split a block, Weasel pops his head outside the pile of wood, I wield the axe, add kindling to the … Continue reading

Posted in Advocacy, Alzheimer's, Care Giving, Hope, Memories, Poetry, Spring | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment