Let's Hear the Moose by Elizbeth Bishop

Let's hear the moose by elizbeth bishop. And it's read here by nick lurd the moose from narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides. Through late afternoon, a bus journeys west, the wind shield flash in pink. Moonlight as we enter the new brunswick woods,. hairy, scratchy, splintery, moonlight and mist caught in them like lambs will on bushes in pasture. The passengers lie back, snores, some long sighs. A dreamy devagation begins in the night. An old conversation, not concerning us, but recognizable somewhere back in the bus. Deaths, deaths and sicknesses.