Once I cast my mind's eye
toward Kotzebue,
to the Island of Saint Paul.
The sound of
Siberian Yupi'k spoken,
the smell of seal oil,
the taste of dry fish.
A sky that went on
forever
over my strong body
through my young man's
mind.
toward Kotzebue,
to the Island of Saint Paul.
The sound of
Siberian Yupi'k spoken,
the smell of seal oil,
the taste of dry fish.
A sky that went on
forever
over my strong body
through my young man's
mind.
Yearning and regret in this, well told.
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