me at 5 moved to Alaska from Michigan
the big people who were parents
were very busy they said being missionaries
which meant they were 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 maybe at dinner Mrs. Hammond made
so i roamed the big bay beach
collecting baby pink shells
i called them and sometimes abalone
which i thought sounded like balony
greeting the tide coming in, going out
climbing a tall rock with dynamite holes
from the mountains, my mountains i fancied
visiting the fishermen down at the docks
admiring their dayglo orange salmon catch
making a pole of barnacles and string
playing office in the woods, my rolltop desk
an old stump with acorns and moss
i imagined were office type stuff
a stick for a stapler, a nut hull roll of tape
in a forest fire swamp older than the trees
with caribou, bear and moose
also too busy to bother with a little girl
playing secretary in the woods
oh give me home where they roam
and I'll never be alone
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
I didn't tell the busy-busy people
hurrying to save lost souls
what are sticks and stones, whales and snails
compared to the good news?
I just hugged these things in my heart
happiest and scariest of times
all live in the Alaska of my memory
being alone too much too young
having the adventures of a lifetime
Alaska on my mind
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