Moose Junction Poem by Troy Cochran
Moose Junction
I still like to break the ice
Of puddles where I can.
At the junction down a ways
I'm a bull in a china shop;
A dancing man.
It's early in the morning,
Dark as Sam,
And the cars are barely waking up
To drag their people off
Into a traffic jam.
Just me and my boots
And a moose in the road.
He looks at me, and I look at him.
He ambles off into the underbrush
Like a slow locomotive, snorting smoke.
I slow to a prowl, and then to a stand:
There at the junction, where the ice is broke.
Beautiful poem Troy Thank you for sharing Mario Odekerken
Thank you, Mario. I have since moved to Oregon, where the ice is not so prevalent, and the moose are less talented. My dancing days are needing a revival.
Breaking ice while having journey in life at a junction seeing a dancing man amazes mind. Early at the morning wonderful perception was acquired. Brilliantly penned humorous poem is shared here.10
Thank you, Kumarmani. You probably don't have to deal with moose in India, just things like tigers and typhoons. Count your blessings. Moose are a handful. :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 9:17:50 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A morning curiosity, keenly observed, turned into a great write. I wonder how the Moose would have expressed his thoughts upon seeing you on that cold January morning.
He was probably snickering in that goofy way they have, having got to all the ice before me, sounding something like Bull Winkle. :)