In Alaska, where the polar bears chill, I watched a humpback whale dance the lambada underneath a rippling blanket of northern lights
and I thought of you.
I thought of you playing banjo in New York City, maybe busking by a subway train charming C.H.U.D.s with your gentle atmospherics and low key grooves. I wasn’t by your side there. This was only a dream of you
because I was in Alaska.
I was in Alaska, where the cold air does not sing gently and the polar bears will never get their groove back. In Alaska, the Eskimeaux will never get their ice back nor their 10 billion names for snow. I heard those humpback whales will soon migrate to the Eastern seaboard just to hear you play upon a rocky shore. And those northern lights, well, they’ll go right on twinkling,
whether or not there’s anyone around to watch.
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