Poet’s Corner: Mushing the Fortymile

Mushing for the Fortymile

 

By John A. Anderson, Kenai

Above the hoarfrosted aspens a horned moon casts a

yellow glow through the bare and lifeless trees …

Bedding the dogs in the lee of a crumbling miner’s cabin

I lit a fire to ward off the chill of the Arctic breeze …

The dogs now deep in slumber, with the fire holding back

the night, I still cannot find sleep,

With the mournful calls of wolves below the mouth of

Fortymile Creek …

As the wind pushes down the trail it lifts the snow before

the moon making colors of reds, blues and whites …

All this along the wild, silent staccato, of the ever

moving Northern Lights …

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