Bethel - Terminal Inwardness
Illustration by Betsy Bear
Send food. By now you should know.
Good Morning America reported our weather.
My fellow travelers and I - “stranded indefinitely”.
All small planes grounded.
This afternoon, after the cancellations,
an Arab taxi driver gave us the tour package.
Their roads have amusement park hills and corners
because the ground heaves.
The Kuskokwim River splits this treeless,
wind-blown place. Ice blocks, the size of houses,
wrecked cars, Cessna fuselages and wooden pallets
line the banks. Many cute children. Our driver says
this village was built on the wrong backwater,
according to ancient legend.
He said a priest from Alakanak
claimed the old way of life has been replaced
by snow-blind value systems
in hot pursuit of linguistic motives
in search of the last trail
opened by construction dicks going upriver.
If the plane leaves without me
who’s to say? Those ptarmigan
coveyed on the runway’s edge
might need our protection too.