Loons, the great birds of the north country.
The ones who wake up at the crack of dawn
to go fishing in the calm waters.
The ones who sit outside for hours
mesmerized by the morning birds and their songs.
The ones who would do just about anything
to protect their flock, their family,
and to score a good deal at an estate sale.
Loons, the ones who drink so much beer,
you’d think it’d be their own blood type.
Loons, the ones who relish over a good story around a fire
or a handmade photo album
or a freshly made pie
from grandma’s 1970’s recipe cards.
Loons, with our Canadian accents,
our love for animals,
our lack of fear for spiders and bears,
and our appreciation for nature
and each other.
Some may call us looney,
and I ask them if they’ve ever seen
the miracle of a loon
early in the morning
pop her head out of the lake water.
Loon, a name I’m proud of.
Only found in northern country.
Ali Walks Around 