Song of the Klootchman
BY DENMAN S. WAGSTAFF
Cold blows the wind on Neah Bay shore,
Yet softly the Klootchman sings;
In its rustic cot the baby sleeps
As the cradle swings and swings.
Does the Klootchman dream of olden days
Does she hope for her baby there
In its swinging nest 'neath the old tree-top—
Does she build it a future fair?
Ah no, methinks on Neah Bay shore
Where the cradle swings and swings,
The Klootchman ends her daily task
When the babe sleeps as she sings.
COURTESY PACIFIC MONTHLY
