We Feel At Home While Running
Huskies in Svalbard
We are put at the back of the sledge
to run backwards, all six of us,
on the tips of our toes, bottomwise.
I'm the leading dog, besides győőő, hóóóó
my ears show the guys every order,
right, left, slow, fast, always at the ready.
My padded sole is tattering the slush.
Our human aims to return to
what he calls a mrrrr Christmas.
We slice the smirrrr of the darkscape
like the axe smashes our treat,
dried codfish with soft atlas of juice in the deep. * Place names in Svalbard
This poem first appeared in Ink, Sweat and Tears. Agnes Marton is a Hungarian-born poet, writer, librettist, Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts (UK) and Reviews Editor at The Ofi Press. Recent publications include her collection Captain Fly's Bucket List and four chapbooks with Moria Books (USA). She won the National Poetry Day Competition in the UK.