He is reconciled with his three grown children.
In these fire-crackling, after-supper hours of life they retrieve
some old worn fabulous dreams
of his. And expect they'll still fit.
He stirs to the enchantment the old dreams had always—
his hand recarves
the wonder
of the old designs
their loved contours....
but a long frozen air has set in:
They are barely recognizable now.
This poem was first published in The Carnegie Newsletter.
Over the last decade there has been a near-plethora of books written about northern caribou. 
