Sighting in Yukon

Dear Lady of Mirrors,
Goddess of Ponds,
Angel of Reflections

Why did you reappear here when the candle is already put out,
when the shack is already dark,
and nobody is here anymore

I am already out here hunting bears for dinner

You look redder than you used to be,
but although this time I lent you my axe
white Yukon snow didn’t turn to warm bright spring
like in yesteryear
when I only saw you from BC

Or maybe it will

If so, that remains to be seen

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