Every day brings a cold cold sun. Cold measured by the ice crystals layering the windows. All bodies of water are froze, rivers streams lakes harbors. Trucks drive onto the ice and build a fire, snowmobiles drag sleds. We ski over frozen wind scathed lake topped with snow and ice shacks that giant fish leap from, blinded by white quiet in trees, we climb upon lake islands, we go so far I become limp and say, “I am light,”some food from ice shacks to go with that, bald eagle flying over at sunset, we find its down feathers to place on our bellies, we are like coyote and fox dreaming up life in a barren land.

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