A dream found me in a boreal land
where pines teamed in dark identity
and shoals of fish flashed in unison
in a frozen lake. A herd of caribou
coursed in veins through the snow.
These multitudes were as leaves, scales, hair
on the body of a land where they belonged,
without love or mercy, while I, marooned,
austral, alien, stood among them, feeling
cold, feeling my heart freeze in my chest.
Then my wife came to me through the trees,
and her eyes were full of pity. “You know
I love you,” she said, and I replied. We danced
my salvation over the ice. Like figure skaters we flew
through the landscape, and I saw its beauty.
When I woke, her presence, near, warm,
was as true as the dream.