Angoon, Alaska

By way of Seattle and Juneau, Alaskan Air and Ferry
You trust the aerodynamic experts who know all about
Turbulence.

No Peanut butter, no beef jerky, no salmon scented soap.
You are prepared for the Alaskan wild dogs
And the grizzly bears who grab garbage bags straight from
Your truck, just as you reach the town dump.

They are excused and curious creatures
At the lips of a gray pit.
Their questions litter everywhere
And the only thing you can do is drive away.

I will meet you there upstream.
Only there are we newcomers,
Unfamiliar with April -
Herring
Strangers to June -
Stacked silver salmon.

And when we get tired of fish
We will go to the water where the
Old Klinkut men pull up
Old wooden crates, hand over hand.

They will tell us that we must learn how to stand
More than this:
Humpback whales and still-born waves.

We return to the garbage hole.
So this is what it’s like to drop five hundred
And fifty-two feet instead of turning
To face you.
Angoon is anything but static.