We were headed south on Highway 64
a road that wanders through the moose pasture
of northeastern Ontario rock swamps lakes
patches of pine spruce tamarack poplar and birch
ponds with emerging bullrushes splashes of yellow
marsh marigolds lush greens for a winter-starved moose
Highway 64 has lonely stretches and compares not
with Route 66 the legendary road of song and fable
in the United States but it does carry a charm
of loneliness for the motorcycle riders such as we
on this spring day when we met Monsieur Moose
He not yet with his full rack of antlers and still shedding
his winter coat was eating the marsh marigolds watching
between bites for road traffic ears flicking for sounds
but we on our quiet Spyders slipped by and he
took another bite of the tasty treats thinking us gone
Gearing down checking for traffic we turned around
motors idling came back to observe and perhaps say
a word or two of appreciation and encouragement
to this huge ungulate munching on tender plants
M. Moose tolerated us for a few moments but
fearing for his life disappeared into the brush
how sad I thought that we because of our nature
coveting his hide meat bones and wall-worthy rack
could not commune with this and other creatures
of the wilderness
I suppose the Great Designer thought we could not
all be vegetarians because of our numbers would eat
the earth clean and so perish but I and my brother
would have welcomed a few moments of shared
time with this magnificent creature eating marigolds
in the wilderness of Highway 64
