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Cold and icy passageway to trudge through.
Ships and warships sailed thru the Bering Strait.
In limbo 'tween two nations, iced, staid too.
When I first set out,  for thrill I await. 
Where ferocious beasts can hunt and roam thru. 

Gray clouds with puffy tops hedge their offspring. 
Calmly shifting layers, like a stack shades. 
Wet and wild park made of stone tectonics. 
Not to mention a beard made of green trees. 
I saw two black wolves on Eagle Brook Road. 

Mountain trails are plagued with random people. 
At the outset, there were rocks and small stones.
There are blooms on the young pink rose jungle.
Here, among green discord of willow vines, 
Aspen trees clump joined, stay comfortable 

Alaska: home to the famed "midnight sun." 
Where kids play and grownups lose track of time.
Reminds them that it is time to wind down. 
When it gets quite dark they call it nighttime 
Bright toughness is a trait with a tough tone. 

The place where the Moon is second fiddle.
 Matanuska vale's snooze-fest of a town
while moose and caribou withal trample 
Move across the railroad ties one side down. 
where the grass is green and soil is ample. 

Alaska: home to the famed "midnight sun." 
The place where the Moon is second fiddle.

Written: June 21, 2022

2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney 

Checked by: HMC.COM/ 10 Syllables per line
Rhyme: Rhymezone.

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