A travel tale - from boring prose to this by AI
Ballad of the Dempster Run
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the folks who turn north for a lark;
Where the road runs thin through the gravel din
And the spruce stand black in the dark.
And this is the tale of a married pair
Who answered the long road’s call—
From Whitehorse north in a rented Ford,
Past Dawson and over it all.