Yukon Soujourn
French bread and Havarti,
We picnic on the Dome high above Dawson City.
The miles between here and home encompass
Wilderness
Fireweed
Saltwater
To the East a forest fire blazes in its early stages,
Far below the clear Klondike and muddy Yukon converge.
Rickety Dawson buildings slant haphazardly,
Adorned with lively names and vibrant colors
Bombay Peggy’s, the Westminster, the Bunkhouse
Lilac & Saffron
Apricot & Cobalt
Pierre Burton, Robert Service, Jack London
All penned a few verses in this town.
The Palace Grand Theater, even after reconstruction, remembers her dance hall girls.
Old Crow to the North; Whitehorse to the South,
Afternoon cloud cover offers interlude from the sun.
Promises of gold whisper through the wispy tips of Fox Tail.
Rie plays in the grass.
-Kersten Christianson
Sitka, Alaska