Inupiaq women

 

Daqui

She paddles and streams 

her kayak up Kobuck River.

At daybreak, 

she passes the salt flats into  

the glass water; she skims 

for cod and chum,          hand over oar,

            hand over oar, 

ripples tightening the drawstring

on her parka. A taffeta of cold air

hits her cheeks; they are sun-

wind chapped, a sign of Inupiaq women

subsisting for their young families.

In body, in Inuit, she thrives on the bleakest

ecstatic love. Here on her knees,

in her seal skin buoyant boat,

her duties of her village complete,

she knows her place among the caribou 

women. She knows her children 

with their earphones on, 

while playing video games, 

will not follow her in the knowledge of ice, 

dressing a caribou, preparing dry-fish, 

jarring jellies, dip netting hooligans, 

purse netting whitefish, tracking 

and setting traps for marmot, squirrels,

arctic fox and wolverines. She thinks 

of the children, hand over oar; 

they will stay at the village, carve 

for cleaving water with Inupiat hands.

dg nanouk okpik