Autumn on Auke Bay Harbor

Joints twinge in cool muskeg dusk.

The softball whistles past third.

Beer sprays over the winners of the tourney.

Jig to fiddles until the lights turn on.

Get a cab. Take off sweatshirt smelling

like trailer and boat. Flip on Gastineau

Channel channel and crash.

Whining violin on the tube, water lapping

against the hull. Get up before the raven

to catch late sockeyes. A pole, some rusted

lures, dry deer meat and mustard on bread.

Grandpa liked his porcupine stew upon return

to camp. Sinew and driftwood imprint

on the tundra. Wet wool sleeves shake loose

snow from branches. They’d loudly shuffle

their feet outside sod homes to announce

arrival. Seasons wake up inside the marrow,

nothing settled, like the first day at school.