Bridges
The bridge over Mayo River
Cracks hard in the winter air
As a truck goes onto it
In the silence comes a sound
Like a shot through the trees
I look back to see.
The river half frozen
Runs underneath, in the afternoon sun
The only road into town
I think, of BC towns isolated
By natural disaster
Here we are north of 60
The bridge here, and the bridge into Dawson
The last links on the highways
The last structures
Against isolation, cut off
Fuel, food and mail
And others.
Though we are resourceful
Now as the temperature descends
We build a bridge of ice
Over the Yukon River,
That used to flood Dawson.
We cross in mid-winter
On the surface of frozen water
Truck, skidoo and dog sled
To West Dawson and beyond.
Author’s Bio
Jeffrey Mackie is a Canadian poet living in Dawson City on the traditional territory of the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in First Nation. His work has been published nationally and internationally. Jeffrey Mackie is an Anglican priest in the Diocese of Yukon.
