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Pit Stop

“There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won’t cure,
but I don’t know any of them.” -Sylvia Plath

In Kootenay County, B.C. at the Halcyon Hot Springs,
we pillage our backpacks in search of swimsuits

and towels. Our blanched Alaskan skin glows pale halibut
under pyred sun. Giggling we bound like white-tailed

deer to the pool’s edge, plunge foot, leg, body into beryl
water. We slide into the tonic unaffected by afternoon

temperatures. Rie, our daughter, is frosted with sunscreen,
trussed with enough flotation to shoot like a champagne

cork around the jetted swim channel, nothing but giggles
and wind; skylarking and shenanigans. Later, elbows

propped upon pool’s deck, road tripped muscles warmed,
limber, I watch the waves joggle Upper Arrow Lake.

Daughter in the spray park, husband in the mineral
soak; if I could sleep in water, I would.

Kersten Christianson is a raven-watching, moon-gazing Alaskan. When not exploring the summer lands and dark winter of the Yukon, she lives in Sitka, Alaska. She completed her MFA through the University of Alaska Anchorage (2016).   Her book of poetry Something Yet to Be Named is forthcoming (Aldrich Press, 2017).

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