As she bends,
Mittens grip the shovel’s wooden handle,
Firmly lifting the burdens
of snow.

Puffy gear smothers her lean figure
Where she rests a moment on the deck rail.
She has no interest in looking pretty.  
In the elements of Alaska,
Comfort supersedes fashion.

Within the sound of the shovel scraping
And the cascade of powder
into the Beyond,
She conquers, for a moment, the white
Woes of winter. These dreary days--

Her sullen friends--
Give her the gift of learning
to smile,
And teaching her children to smile.
Wear it long enough,

And you’ll feel it become yours.
She heaves burden after burden
Forgetting each as they dissipate.
The bare slats of wood shine, finally
Beneath her boots.

Everywhere, speckles of ice dance with light.
Gazing toward the sky, her task complete,
She drinks the bits of sun, a gift
Raw like joy.