October Rain and I Dream Alaska
In the clearing a light post stands
while a thousand feet chatter
from afar. The land is wet with geese.
I am headed to paradise – the cold
cities of glaciers and mountain peaks
where moose gather on the ice in the way
leaves descend on a wooded pond.
I want to roll over early in the morning
and brew coffee from melted snow
while a blue ridge conducts its orchestra.
I want to silently
join the procession of clouds.
I want to follow the tracks of a snowshoe
hare to a cold, deserted bay
where I build a hut in the pacing wind,
lie naked in the dark, and thaw
frozen deep inside my bones.
In a sweater, I make tea.
Cold morning hours pass.
I read, have honeyed oatmeal,
go back to reading. Incense burns
and goes out, leaving strands of ash
on the sand. How many winter wrens
have gathered in the tree outside,
while I've been curled up
with this steel-kettle's rising steam,
conversing with icy air?
Bryan Weeks earned a B.A. in English & Creative Writing from the University of Washington in 2013 and M.A. in Education from Boise State University in 2022. He teaches English at an alternative high school and leads reading and writing groups in philosophy, literature, and poetry for adults in Boise, ID where he lives with his wife and son.