On Trail

Two bags of oats, one sugar, one flour
Hardtack must be gift-wrapped
String goes once around
Twice around
In summer, I travel light
Pinch of salt, rifle, whipsaw and a coffee can
But winter, she’s a cruel master
50 below, 60 below, colder at night
(more than you know, more than you know)
One winter we nearly starved
Six dogs, just skin and bones
Buck went mad, burst in the cabin, ate a candle whole
Flame and all
In winter it is not wise to set on trail all on one’s own
I’m going out there anyhow, gonna take her home
San Francisco here we come
Me and Mum