the next day

somehow you wake
up in Alaska
in an igloo. there is a small
woman beside
you cleaning fish.
she sees that you are awake
and comes over
to rub her nose
against yours.
she says something in a language
you've never heard
before.
her skin is brown, her hair
is black as oil.
she points to your
bear skin cape
and nods. you put it on
and look out
the rounded door of the ice
block you are in.
there is nothing but
white ice, white snow,
even the blue
sky seems determined
to be white.
a penguin walks by,
stopping to look a you.
he shrugs
and moves on. there are
no answers to your dreams.
there is only
the next day.