WEBVTT

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This is called "Coming Home."

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It's an Alaskan
mountain poem, too.

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"We passed through here
once a long time ago,

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and you must expect to leave
something behind as you pass.

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It was the mountain, chanting
round [? Kisani ?] winds,

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tonight dancing.

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All painted black, splashed
with constellations--

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The Pleiades, Orion.

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I wake up past
midnight to listen.

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The bull roar
whirls, cloud calling

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in distant North mountains.

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The snow singing, answers,
we will be with you

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for as long as the
moon is born frozen

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from the backbone
of the mountain.

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From the stillness of gray
stone 4,000 feet high.

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Leave something
behind, they said.

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You never know, you might
come back again this way.

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And then you will be home."

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