Sunday, July 17, 2016

Stranger Not Strange

I remember them because of their parkas, their outlines and postures. Their temples. The way they'd sit on the snow machines, straight ahead, looking right, then left. That was their group. St. Lawrence Island may be just a memory. The dog team harnessed, ready to go. Shumagin prancing, snapping the air then howling at the siren every noontime back when global warming wasn't even an idea. in the Pacific theater. The judge married a couple on the beach, finally, having moved away from the rotting walrus and the flies.

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