The Netsilik Eskimo’s

Netsilik Eskimo’s
The people of the Seal
Go jigging for lake trout
A pastime for real
Its May 15 fahrenheit
Hear the crunch of the sled
The cry of the dogs
The snow forms their bed

Kick out some snow
With the heel of one’s shoe
And begin to saw slabs out
Thats what you do
Build ice blocks as walls
Shave edges in place
Some 3 bricks high
Its all done at a pace

Cover with skins
A door put in place
which is where they crawl through
This is their base
A perfect igloo
The pelts keep out draught
And the terrible cold
Roll up the spare pelts
The heat they will hold

Above a pink sky
Where the family can hide
Away from the wind
It is quite warm inside
Father goes jigging for trout
In the lake
With his knife and his seal rope
Lake trout he does take

Wind does move mountains
But deep in the snow
With a fish cooking admirably
Each gets a throw
Of the dice
And a taste of the trout
And clearly the freshness
Leaves them in no doubt

The bite of the frost
The wash of the snow
The tenderest flesh
Helps the eskimo’s grow
Compared to city folk
our industrialized world
They the indigenous
Were apparently hurled

Neither shouting or screaming
Back into time
Where the sky turns to grey
And the grey is the climb
To the clouds to the sky
Where the trout meet their end
The edge of the boot from
From their inuit friend.