Yukon Moonlight Madness 

Trapper’s code:

“Arrive on time!”

–                                    “Don’t look for me if no-show, 

–                                     might be a ‘corpsical’.”                                     

 Can I live with myself with no-show?

‘Twas crisp Christmas Eve,

a cold thirty Celsius below,

ears alerted for skidoo sounds. 

The night light deepened, 

vast forest hushed,

snow iridescent

in the full moonlight.

Load survival gear. 

First time, ten night-miles to his cabin

into twenty thousand square miles, 

mountain wilderness 

to the northeast.

Solo skidoo trek

in the full moonlight.

Neck hairs stood straight up. 

She imagined wolf pack, quick look back 

as skidoo raced into deep snow. 

Machine and muscle, 

pull and throttle, 

snow released its grip

in the full moonlight.

His cabin was dark. 

A door creaked open, his white long johns

were luminescent, was stooped over. 

The oil lamp lit, heard

profane swear words,

his hair spiked wolf-like 

in the full moonlight.

Trapper’s code:

“Arrive on time!”

–                 “I must go now, you’re all right,

–                   no ‘corpsical’ seen here.”

I can live with myself with no-show!

Her cabin in sight!

The feared illusive wolves were the sounds        

of wild ptarmigan flocks dancing

amongst willow shrubs, 

she smiled and laughed.

A sound sleep and dreamed 

in the full moonlight.

Poem Style:  Lyric