For two summers, 1962 and 1963, I worked in a logging camp.  It was located at Alice Lake, (not far from Bob’s Lake), about 30 minutes by float plane from Campbell River, on Vancouver Island, on the mainland. The men, good hard-working rednecks who enjoyed pranks on giving me a rough time.

I wrote a few poems that summers. They recount actual events.  Here is the first (influenced by E. E. Cummings):

Cat and bat


Bryan Sanctuary, 1962 -17 years.


smooth—that’s what—


but still so quick while slick

i saw him move.

sly?—no—but fast

at last

i caught him at a catch

no match for others

smooth to move

                        quick and slick.

still i wonder as i thrill

see his art        

at the start

                                    then the dart.

yes—a bat

            flew by the cat

                        as he sat

that fated bat

flew by the cat

whose eyes slant-slit

                                    and mid full wit

that glance

            that prance

to lay

                                    his prey

then the play

before those jaws

locked the doors

behind that bat,

i saw that cat.

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