You understand now,
and for the first time in
your long life you whine.

I remember your opening
breath. The sun was but a pale
spot in the sky. You sucked
your mother’s milk off my fingers.

The air is sour with the scent
of weeping. We will never venture
south, over the sea ice for supplies,
then together come home again.

You started weak, but are
now powerfully built, with
an imposing physique.

Loyalty, affection, intelligence
all run marrow deep, but
they know none of this,
the mounted police.

To them, you’re nothing
but a risk, allowing us to roam.
They don't know we use
your urine for medicine.
They don’t understand
that dogs equal life.

My children have
to bury their puppies.

You were looking forward
to the hunt today, but now
your sister miscarries while
she dies. Your brother trails
blood over the hill as second,
third, fourth shots fail to kill.

The others have no way
to return home.

You howl in pain. A bastard
in red missed your heart,
but takes another suck
on a cigarette before he makes
you ready for the fire.

The smell will draw the bears.

The distance for furs and food
will be dangerous now, exhausting.

I take your fur as they light
the first piece of driftwood,
and cradle your heavy heart
in two hands.

In my ears there will always
be the echo of your last howl.

I have nothing now.
I have nothing.

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