EARLY SPRING, ALASKAN HIGHWAY

EARLY SPRING, ALASKAN HIGHWAY

Vans, campers, cars all stopped

as bison amble on the new-born road,

licking winter salt.

People brandish phones and cameras,

dodge dangerously close

to the languid beasts

that once fed and clothed First Nations 

long before we shot them for sport

just to pass the time.

In three shades of brown,

a bull saunters near me

the massive hairy head,

a potent battering ram with sharp upturned

horns to fashion danger to wolf and bear.

The sandy mane and shoulders merge

into a body of smooth chocolate,

ending in a tiny tail,

an afterthought

that slowly whisks

to and fro in lazy air

quite a sight for city folk,

the American bison

on a Sunday stroll.

 

Author's Note

more fun with a published travel piece