(Photo by my buddy, Alaskan photographer, Joe Yelverton)

the snow tells stories here a snow shoe hare took his last jump the lynx left crimson clumps and two unlucky feet then crept off there dainty round fox prints skirting the dwarf hemlock barely leaving a mark then a straight line toward the ghost of a ptarmigan wing pressed into the snow and three white feathers flecked with blood the wolverine’s character is never betrayed lone line of round dimples and claws cut the cornice his tracks spell intent between all this two lines, sometimes four our ski tracks, meandering up the valley to the frozen lakes our marks in the snow leave a different story one that is still being written 

[April 7, 2018 — Poem #7 National Poetry month]