Nothing but north wind,
black coffee night sky patterned
by quartz chipped stars. Fortified
by red wine, chunked chocolate
our pre-ski picnic warmed the blood.
Wrapped in Arctic gear, we crossed
and looped the lagoon parallel
to the Chukchi Sea. Shuffle and glide
of cross country skis masked
by laughter at our dogs unwilling
to skijor; laughter at the brittle hollow
sound of thirty below, that crack
of loneliness shelved and distant.
Photo Credit: Scott Larsen