I will go to a new land.
I will start anew,
Going out to the woods naked and alone
And start anew—a shelter, fire,
The planting of seeds for harvest
Upon land that belongs to no one.
I will hold a land not owned,
A wilderness place,
Native and brave as Indian maize
In self-reliance, the standing alone
Of pioneers and frontiersmen
In a new land.
—
Harold Bishop grew up on an Illinois farm. He survived alone in the Washington wilderness for a year. He worked in the construction trades and taught school. He lives in Seattle, Washington.
