Charles E. Purdy

Three generations of my family have been visiting Saskatchewan and Manitoba every fall as hunters since the 1940’s.

And the most memorable part of every trip is the wonderful hospitality of the great folks who live in the prairie provinces.

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When we learned of the horrible crash we were heart-broken.

I wrote the enclosed poem and was encouraged to send it to you.

My sincerest condolences to the grieving families and your community as a whole.

 

Sandhill cranes, ducks and geese leaving every year before the

Ice arrives

Shoveling off a rink at the south end of the marsh

Where the cattails have not yet conquered and the

Muskrats still post occasional sentinels

Then playing and colliding and learning and scoring and

Winning and losing

With skates not so great

Brothers, sisters, neighbours, cold

This, I suspect, is akin to how their young senses and hearts first came to the

Mystique and traditions of hockey

 

Today, a group of strangers gather on a chilly morning

Near a flower cross placed by the Mounties

 

At the crossroads

Where very bad things can happen as the blues say and the

Devil knows

 

Though for a bit still full of diesel droplets and bog moss specs

The winds of the prairie provinces will forever carry and remember the

Spirits, good deeds and glue of the

2018 Humboldt Broncos

© Copyright Humboldt Journal

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