Grand Pré

Spangled grass on crest of dike
       Swimming past my wheel,
Slide betwixt the ruddy marsh
       and prairie meadows green.

As tide recedes, the mud banks crackle
       Lock keys calmly clanking,
Redwing blackbird flashes stripes
       Sings from pole to pole.

As I traverse the verdant path
       Black spotted cow stands watching,
While over on the other side
       White-faced cattle haunching.

Trapped within an algae cove
       Flock of minnows dart,
And just before Mosquito Point
       Crows vantage from pink apple.

Two women stuff the Volvo full
       of desiccated sheaves,
Above red barn on Marsh Crest Farm
       Silos cascade shadows,
And out beyond Evangeline,
       The rusty tide sinks North.

These lands, so rich, were stolen thrice:
       Stolen from the sea and plovers,
Stolen from the Mi'kmaq
       Then stolen from the Acadie.