when the bay freezes

Sometimes on hard-crusted winter snow
I’ve seen the game escape its limits,
And leap the width and breadth of things,
become a mad chase going nowhere, out
past dangerous places where the current
nibbles cheese holes — out to the wide wide bay;
where iceboats leave their tracks to race with birds,
and fishing shanties are lost castles beyond the town,
and snow clouds loom ahead like giant goalies.

• Al Purdy