Skagway

Was it love at first sight
The falsest and ficklest of feelings
Or was it a week’s affair
Hardly less fleeting
Where in I fell in love
With this island between
Icy seas and tormented valleys

A holy temple for gold diggers
Of every generation to stake their claim
Among jewelry stores and bars
Selling knickknacks and conquest
To well-fed travelers
Who wander off floating castles

Where pilgrims and scoundrels
Find summer refuge
Taking their sacrament with the land
With boots and packs and fishing poles
Seeking alms from the tourists
To fund their worship
Of the towering wild

-T. Weeks
(A response to “Old Chants“)