There are lynx,
their paws padding on the forest floor.
Black bears towering above me.
Mosquitos humming,
buzzing by my ear.
The chirping of the young fledglings,
like a song of peace.
The fresh toasty waffles,
and the juicy, mouth watering spam,
like they are more,
than the best thing in the world.
I smell the silent burning firewood,
It's smoke drifting upward.
I walk outside and feel the dew dipped grass,
wave between my toes.
And those crackling leaves that crunch beneath my feet.
There,
in Minchumina,
I am very happy.
