Copper River Delta

 

There's a place...

Where earthquakes have 

quaked life into trees,

and trees into life.

Where waterfowl and their webbed feet

wing over water

engineered by hard-hatted beavers.

Where moose mangle willows and 

flee drawn bows and deathful bears.

Where wolves collect constellations 

by howling skyward,

eyes agazed amongst Aurora.

Where pilots fly over switchback sloughs

and gallons of glittering grey glacial water. 

Where airboats align along Aliganik, 

waiting to rotate their blades that banter beyond oblivion. 

Where fishermen feel the pull of a thousand salmon, 

thrusting with whatever strength they can muster. 

Where interns are influenced by the incandescent illuminations 

that glow from inside the comfort of the Gazelle.

Where rain rests rarely and 

winds whip winter against wistful life. 

Where vacuuming vegetation 

hides secretive mothers with their young.

Where tides are ticking time bombs,

predictable but never timely, 

waiting for no working or wandering man. 

...and where a million heartbeats 

pump a calming Copper River through their souls.