Their
bitten ankles, knees and bellies.
Down from the thick
summer-forest’s shade they
are driven
by insects by the millions.
They
escape snapping off limbs and trampling young jack-pine
in their frenzy for relief.
Down from the infested summer woods
they crash fierce with longing
for the
water and cleansing wind.
They wade
deeply in the clean cold; they drink and eat
of the succulent greens which rub
and are
balm to their wounds.
There they
rest their nerves and heal and feed.
The moose
come to the lakes for this miracle.