me at 5 moved to Alaska from Michigan
the big people who were parents
were very busy they said doing missionary stuff
in which they had to be gone for a long time
so i got to play alone. A lot.
with Mrs. Hammond the blind Tlingit lady
who made giant totem pole animals
in tiny seed beads on blankets
i sat under her card table
and collected the dropped beads
she was too old to play outside
and mommy and daddy were too busy
telling people about the good news
i never saw them much
except sometimes at dinner Mrs. Hammond made
so i roamed the beach collecting baby pink shells
i called them and sometimes abalone
which i thought sounded like balony
climbing rocks at the base of
the mountains, my mountains i fancied
and in the woods with my rolltop desk
an old stump with acorns and moss
i imagined were desk type stuff
with the bears and moose
too busy foraging to bother with a little girl
i watched an eagle fly over the bay
and a baby whale letting off steam
i admired a gushy snail who'd left her shell
and tasted the berries that grew in the swamp
that smelled like paradise might smell
happiest and scariest of memories
all live in the Alaska on my memory
being alone too much too young
having the adventures of a lifetime
Alaska on my mind
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