Poems by Pat O'Cotter

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This Land is the orphan kiddie
I've tramped across her endless miles of tundra,
The home of the tin can and dog,
The China Coast's a dumping ground
As long as lure o' placer gold
(A Steal from Kipling)
Looking for placer pangar,
A man that's spent years knocking round "out in front"
For a thousand years the Devil crouched
When the stars from the skies have fallen
As one who lays aside a task, where one has ruled alone,
Where the ragged, snow-capped saw tooth
He was born far east of the Rockies
My trade was old when the world was new,
The dream of the white man ever goes out
Some sigh for the breath of the desert
While all Europe is a shambles
Along in early spring time, as the sun starts swinging North
Why is it Alaskans all come back