Extracts from "A Legend of Paul Bunyan" Paul S Bourinot

He came,
striding
over the mountain,
the moon slung on  his back,
like a pack,
a great pine
stuck on his shoulder
swayed as he walked,
as he talked
to his blue ox
Babe;
.....
with one step
he was in the next valley
dragging the moon after,
the stars
tangled,
spangled
in the branches of the great pine.

And as he left,
he whistled in the dark
like a far-off train
....
and then, the sounds
fading,
dying,
were lost
in the churn of night, --
and all was still.

by Paul S. Bourinot

Canadian Poet 1893-1969 Best known for children’s verse

image:  Paul Bunyan strapped slabs of bacon to his feet to grease the cookhouse griddle for hungry lumberjacks