Burning Daylight

In the middle of the night I will take my leave the way I come, in a gunnysack drug over Chilkoot Pass. I stayed for the wild blue iris, hemlock and the devil’s club, for the glowing coals of burning daylight

The Yukon thirsts under a coat of ice near three feet thick. She’s unquenchable in spring and early fall. Damned if I could beat the ice run, out of spite she took my dogs. One by one they slipped into her waters

I howled in vain, January through Victoria Day, nursed my mother while the river seethed and raged. She shouted, “Pack the sled! I’m goin’!” May her dogs keep their legs, may her matches always draw a fire

You frostbitten warriors, bounding for glory, I howl for thee
You frostbitten warriors, bounding for glory, I howl for thee
You frostbitten warriors, bounding for glory, howl for me

In the middle of the night we must take our leave the way we come, tether harness to the burning daylight