They came be-
Cause Canada called for them
Sons of the Norse
To hew and to haul and to quarry
To open a western course.
One month before March arrived
The winter of
When the men were taken from us,
Then placed in their shroud of pine.
Great beasts of the Belgian breed
Their shoes clove deep
In the snow
Taking seven men for St. Mary's
Their coffins in silent tow.
The bells of
Bob sleigh and horses were tolled
and fifty miles.
Gone were these men from their labours
From their hardships and their trials.
I spent quite a few years "with these men" tracking the site of their accident at Cross Lake.
Imagining their journey finally made me break out in poetry .