A Yukon Winter's Night

The snow is softly layered out across the sheets of ice, As the winter wind pulls fallen leaves across the frozen lake, And the flowing scent of cinnamon, a hint of nutmeg spice, Will accentuate the sunset of this scene I will partake. But the gripping hold, of winter’s cold, it stings my face and hands, As I look about with wonder at these ancient arctic lands. I take another swig out of my flask of seasoned tea, As I step out on the frozen lake beneath the sunset’s glow, And the silence of the frigid night surrounds my dogs and me, Only broken by the slicing of the sled upon the snow, But I mush the dogs; continue on into the coming night, As the tapestry of vast auroras fill the sky with light. My mind drifts back into the past, my home in Indiana, Of the sunlight burning overhead above the fields of corn, But my mind dwells on departed love, a girl who’s name was Hannah, As for whom I’d leave behind a home and go where I could mourn, And the way I’d go, north with the flow, the mem’ries lose their hold, And my heart and soul are mended here within this numbing cold. This arctic trail is drifting through my life with each new mile, As my eyes imprint each image of each river, rock, and tree, In the shadow of Mount Logan now, I can’t but help to smile, As the trail leads on past Dawson to the distant Beaufort Sea, For the sparkling glow across the snow reflects onto my face, In this land I’ve found untouched by man, I’ve finally found my place I’ve learned a lot within this place; this knowledge I impart, I’ve come to find a land of ice can numb a broken heart. (This one is not really my normal style, but I've been reading too much Robert Service lately and wanted to try one along the same theme)