Yukon Wake-Up Call
—a poem where the frostbite stings and the caffeine sings


He rose before the sun could yawn,
A flask in hand, the fire gone.
The cabin creaked, the silence deep,
His thoughts still tangled in half-sleep.

He poured the Jack, both sweet and bold,
A honeyed burn against the cold.
Espresso next, a bitter jolt,
To stir the soul, to spark the bolt.

A dash of bitters, orange and smoke,
To chase away the dreams that choke.
He shook it hard, the ice replied,
A rhythm born where fears reside.

He sipped. The world began to spin,
The wilderness now felt within.
And in that glass, the day unfurled,
A wake-up call to face the world.


📜 Yukon Wake-Up Call – The Recipe

Instructions:
Shake all ingredients with ice until well-chilled.
Strain into a chilled coupe glass.
Garnish with an orange peel or a sprig of lavender for a fragrant finish.