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Lament for Al Purdy What is a man against a mountain? He is a pine tree, he can not move or grow without the mountain's permission. I heard you were dead as the greyhound took us into the Rockies. Your death has no meaning for these mountains. But your voice was as sweet as a nursing mother's lullaby and as hard as granite. You were the first I loved the first who taught me to listen to the sound of my words. Anyone can be a poet of sunsets lakes, or even mountains, but it takes real courage to be a poet of shit and bar room brawls May your voice echo through these hills as long as huskies shit and there are sensitive men. Al Purdy is dead. Long live Al Purdy. Adam Tod Leverton (atleverton@yahoo.ca)


30997967-Lament-for-Al-Purdy  

May your voice echo through these hills as long as huskies shit and there are sensitive men. You were the first I loved the first who taught...

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