I am a mountain stream,
alive in the midnight sun.
No longer dormant white,
I color the rocks with dappled light
as a keepsake for the magpie and the mountain.
I must run onward
tumbling towards the tree line,
begging rocks to let me pass.

They call me Susitna,
little traveller from the North ridge.
I carry pieces of the mountain Talkeetna,
a gift for my brother, the sea,
named Knik, who sends gilled messengers
speckled silver, white, and red
to welcome me home--
the mountain streaming
to the sea.

In Arizona last week
the migrating Painted Lady butterflies
were dancing and flitting
in stunning numbers.

In waves across the desert,
they'll live for about 6 weeks, if lucky.
Over the course of generations,
they'll migrate to Alaska.

One soon-to-be summer day,
a distant relative of this Painted Lady
will float on the breath of Eagle River valley towards
Mt. Susitna to waltz in the light of the midnight sun.