In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

58 Nellie Considers Her Sons Again: Light —Dawson City, Yukon Territory, December 1899 As the daylight faded, I let go. Small things at first: a thimble lost to the foxtail in front of the cabin, the writing paper swamped in the river. Then, recipes abandoned for lack of butter. Finally, that promise that being together would mean the pleasure of leaving something behind. Even the snow is blackened with wood smoke. The gray twilight we call morning visits at noon and then darts away. My boys buried in wool blankets in the corner of the cabin, stir in their sleep, bothered by the scratch of my pen. In this way they have always been alike: stern eyes, slow to smile, steeped in gravity. Grown, they put dinner on our table, caribou and duck. They feed me. Winter days stay only a little while, indifferent, sleepy, like my baby, the boy so long gone I squint to see him 59 in the man who follows his father to the dance hall and stumbles home late. His brother looks after him, takes him to the woods, away from this dark town, from his wild self, the half he didn’t get from me. But even with Tom’s keeping, he’ll wander and I’ll wonder how to make myself certain of his survival. ...

Share