Season of White

© 2018 Richard Drebert

You may never hear a team of sled dogs calling the snow to fall, but for a moment as you lie quiet in your bed, just imagine you do.

One flop-eared husky, impatient to shoulder a harness, nips at the wind and winter stings him back. A sprightly dog with curly tail lifts her head from paws and yips – she feels it too. Suddenly, every tethered husky awakens to the thrill that awaits.

It’s after feeding time, and long after master’s lights are out. The sled dogs dance, tipping over metal bowls, clanging chains against poles. They leap atop their comfy shanties, and with one great halloo they cry to the clouds: “Let the snow fly!”

Their voices blend with phantom breeds who freight their loads on ancient gales. Feel the satisfying tingle as they awaken you – you’re restless, and unbroken paths lie just outside your door. Sleep comes hard as your friends sing your thoughts, and you pray that their invitation for a season of white, trail and flight finds an answer by morning.

The Restless Seven

  The restless seven wail for snow,

Listen to their cries,

On city streets no one knows,

But here they raze the sky.

 

The restless seven howl for cold,

Their musher’s joy and pride.

With tails wagging high and bold,

They grouse at being tied.

 

 The restless seven whine for flight,

Enduring winter’s sting.

With collars stretched they yank and fight,

Then pause to bark and sing.

 

The restless seven see their wish,

As master sinks to knees,

In mounds of whitened fairy drifts,

His sled dog team he frees.

 

The restless seven toil on trails,

Silent as they run.

Gang-line taut, with lowered tails,

Paws drive down the sun.

 

Master limps through cabin door,

And sled dog to each nest.

The restless seven, muscles sore,

Await their food and rest.

 

Season of white, trail and flight,

The team will sleep til dawn,

Dreaming through moon’s waning light,

Still harnessed to their song.

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