Alaska Highway: Whitehorse to Watson Lake, December 2, 2013

Day 1:

This is the Alaska Highway:

At 10:45 in the morning my car’s thermometer is pegged at-30: as low as it will go. I do not know how cold it really is, only that it is colder than 30 below. After an hour on the road, there is still ice on the hood of the car and the clutch is still as stiff as tar.

I am driving East, into the rising sun, with everything I own.

when the road ahead
is drenched in molten gold
i know to raise my hand
in anticipation of being blinded
until the road slides west
and sunrise
falls
behind me.

outhouse in December
some one has left the seat up
amber icicles

driving east,
sarah brightman
eases the pie jesu
into the rising sun
as brilliant bursts  of liquid bronze and gold
splash champagne,
and shadows
chase the sweetness of the melody
across the hillsides.

telephone poles stretching
one after the other,
t-braces white with frost,
a thousand messiahs
with knees and feet of alabaster
and frosty brows bowed down,
connected by living wire,
carrying my whispered voice
from christ jesus
to christ jesus
until it reaches your
ears.

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