Poem: Deposit



By Steve M. Schoonmaker, Kasilof

What of human investments, what do they mean?

What are the gifts that come in from the streams?

And our human economies, what do they mean?

To biology’s truths at the Bank of the streams

At returns nursery, in it’s link to the sea

Where if just left alone, continuance would be

But if gifts are for taking, for the Eagles in trees

For the Gulls on the sand bars, for the stake holders needs

Our minds about budget, that can live beyond means

If giving’s what gives, then what gives is the streams

Unless giving is giving, by just letting be

By humans grown conscious, by take’s scarcity

Our human economies, what do they mean?

Concerning these matters, at the Banks of the streams

Where deposits are made, and then left to grow

For these gifts of the Salmon, and a life they can know

It’s this gift of themselves, that’s biology’s truth

Let’s give Salmon deposits, yes, given from you

Yes, and given from me, conscious of truth

For continuance to be, no more blaming to do

For continuance to be, it’s now or past due


Reeling it in: For a change of pace, visit ‘Moon’

Last week after the debacle that was “The Dark Tower,” I thought, “Surely we’ll get something worth watching next week.” After... Read more

Reeling it in: ‘The Dark Tower’ tumbles on the screen

There was a time when sci-fi/fantasy/comic book adaptations were not the go to Hollywood studio tentpole, but rather the cast-off, low rent projects... Read more