...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A6QRxrEbm1I

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He had an HBC blanket 

Draped across his shoulders - 

Wool - the kind with 

Fibrous abrasion;  

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The kind that rubs, 

That raises pores across your skin,

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The kind with marked, unmistakable stripes,

The kind with an iconic, irreconcilable history.

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I wonder if these were the ones

that'd done all that damage.

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Is this a blanket warming my back?

or a death emblem? an obelus,

with benign, striped colors

hanging over the bones

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of thousands.

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The midday light shone into the basin

Of a pale, frozen lake - snow-dogs 

Barked their brilliance, fingers

Of knifing radiance

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Piercing between the trees.

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silence

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It was windless, and he watched

Powdered clouds, speckles,

Drifting in sudden clumps

As they escaped their settled-perches

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Atop bare, and twisted branches.

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silence

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The only tracks that could be seen

Were the ones that trailed 

Behind his heels

And that led to a pair  

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Of snowshoes - strapped to his feet

And standing beneath

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Sunlight, powdered snow

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And a blanket 

With a dubious memory.

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