Autumn 2000


Holaday Mason



Somewhere in this silence
the beaver steals
white birch limbs
making use of the living

the falling, the dead.

My breath trails
in a halo of mist.

(Across the snow,
someone is speaking.
A wood fire is burning.)

I've been hunting
the secrets of beaver,
whose dwellings of twigs
can survive

both a free flowing
river and ice.

I wait
for a sign - thick
brambles, shorn sticks -

I know they're alive

just above the water,
interned with their young
where swimming,

swimming in a darkness,
they remain warm.

Holaday Mason has written two unpublished novels. Her first chapbook "Light Spilling From It's Own Cup" was published in 1999. She is currently working in a master class with David Saint John.




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