Traveling south along the Alaskan Seward Highway
on a misty, rainy, stormy Spring day,
we rumble past a ghostly forest of the ’64 Earthquake trees,
and lose count at forty-five cascading waterfall streams.
The Turnagain Arm rests momentarily at the crux of high tide,
avalanche traces spill across the road to the seaward side.
The bore tide spent, the retracting tidewaters rejoin the sea,
the staggering beauty of the day has swallowed me.
Mist engulfs the mountain peaks on the Kenai side,
one seems misshapen, as if removed by a giant bear bite.
An eagle lifts off from a lone spruce tree rooted along the slough,
while I garner the energy to weather the love-torn times to follow.