Flin Flon

Wild rice picker for the World,

Fisher, Holder of the Freight Railway,

Bomber and the Nation’s Miner;

Icy, burning, hardened,

City of Flinty:

They tell me you are callous and I believe them, for I have seen the mosquitoes luring the blood without so much as a flick given from your arm.

And they tell me you are numb and I answer: Yes, it is true I have seen the youth swim in lakes still covered with ice.

And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: Under the caps of men and boys I have seen the lines from burn, eyebrow down.

And having answered so I turn once more to those who snicker at this my city, and I give them back the snicker and say to them:

Come and show me another city with tolerance to sun and ice, always side by side, burning cold and burning bright.

Throwing layers off in winds so cold Jack Frost would despair, they endure the weather whether it betrays and blows, or seduces then snows;

Tough as nails with hammer never ceasing, lively as a hare when spring butts its head through the solid ice of winter,

Barehanded,

Grabbing,

Eating,

Sharing,

Freezing, thawing, freezing,

Under the aurora borealis, fur matted, growling with sharpened claws,

Lowered, lowering, slipping into a frozen lake, looking for a meal,

Lowering even as four legs feel no more to find one meal,

Returning triumphant, howling to the moon, alive and ferocious, the heart of an animal,

Roaring!

Roaring the icy, burning, hardened roar of the animal, snarled, panting, proud to be Rice Picker, Fisher, Holder of Freight Railways, Bomber, and the Miner of the nation.