Chugach dwells in Alaska, in the heart of a National Forest nestled at the feet of the Chugach Mountain chain. The Chugach peoples thought all nature and spirit are forever connected. My husband’s one unfulfilled dream when he passed on was to visit Alaska. He was only whole with Nature surrounding us. I took a remnant of him there and we left him in a place called Chugach National Forest just beyond the carved wooden sign announcing entry. The following poem is for him . . .

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“The Edge of Chugach”

by: Susan Haley

Three Poppies of yellow,

the resolute progeny of seeds blown astray.

A clump of solitude along the roadside

at the edge of Chugach.

Spruce sentinels, a pair,

limbs saluting a cerulean sky,

mark entrance into the deep woods . . .

just beyond the edge of Chugach.

A fern-garnished carpet covers a rock-walled hollow.

Sunrays slicing through the trees,

dance on wildflower petals amidst hues of green.

A deep woods cathedral in Chugach,

pungent earth smells its holy incense.

Yet scarred, by a glacier’s stroll,

the rock rises as testament to the pulsating Planet

ever on the move with eternal possibilities

and writing the new epitaph of a restless soul.

On a small mound of moss,

embraced by a lone seedling spruce,

shielded from the elements by the scarred rock.

In this Cathedral of Chugach,

we left remnants of a passed soul.

In this Eden realm called Chugach,

drawn here by the restless spirit