Walking off the tarmack

To a shimmering glaze of white capped mountains

A blueish overtone of gentle purity

Of the final frontier 

Pictures quickly flashed in a moments noticed

I remember walking

But I could have floated

Checking into the rental car

Stale air and stuff seats

Pulling out of spiral bending lots

Upon Alaskan grounds we disperse

What these eyes now behold

Could never have been done with

Critical description rehearsed 

Phone calls connected before our arrival 

Preparations made as best as we know how

Faces new gleaming with helping hands

Island time is a new resonance we intake

With a Foat Top silhouette in the backdrop

Down the Seward highway

We make our paths

And are already planning on coming back