Let me ask ya,
been to Alaska?

Have you ever stolen
a kiss?

There in Alaska
blue and white glaciers
melt into streams, creeks
and happy rivers.
Large Chinook salmon
guard red suspended
balls of information
and protein.

Mammon for a king
Salmon is the next
generation that
he will never know.

Don’t confuse our fine
fish’s generosity
for weakness my friend.

Now the Jack Salmon
spends less time at sea.
A small bachelor
he’s on a mission,
a fish fishing for
a spawning pair. Must
drop seed in their lair.

Chased away too late,
spilt milk in gravel,
sand and silt. Jack be
gone, no sign of guilt.

A poker pun, here
inserted. Make it
funny, not too

The kings and the Jacks
in a majestic
last generous act
of noblesse oblige
donate their tired
bodies to bears, birds
and trees.

Like the Sitka Spruce,
spring tips used in beer.
The Hemlock soft to
a hiker’s touch. A
friendly hand to calm
fears of losing the
glaciers in a couple
of years, an old ice
formation lost to
the next generation. 

They will never know.


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