Therese Gramercy . . . the girl named Trees

Skylight in Evening


Clear skies in the morning with heavens so dark
that moonshine fills the skylights as I enter the room,
and ignites a bright spark of delight in my heart.

Starlight illuminates the snarled black spruce bog,
its unearthly beauty a silent prayer in the dark,
a peaceful reflection as honeyed tea lifts my fog.

Lights from a jetliner blink like a bright dancing star
as it turns in an arc across the sky from the south
on its way to touch down after traveling so far.

Each time I see those arriving in the planes overhead,
I smile and think of the wonders that they’ll share and take back,
and “Welcome to Alaska” is what I say in my head.