Poem of the Week
By: Peter Green
The ice floe groans and cracks
in the cold Antarctic sunshine
and plunges clamorously into the sea.
On the whitened beaches
seals lounge in langour
and penguins call out in discordant tones
for their offspring to emerge bedraggled
from the sea and waddle over
to their protective chests.
During the day, scientists emerge
bleary-eyed from their stations
like squirrels awakened from a long hibernation;
take precise measurements of sea levels
and dart back into their sanctuaries
as the brief golden light of the morning
fuses with the green whiteness of the ice:
creating an ethereal luminescence.
With the dying of the light, people scarmble for shelter
as the sky turns lilac at first
and then a charcoal black.
The gulls wheel away to the distant horizon
and silence and solitude envelop the landscape.
Absolute nothingness permeates...
Footnote: Peter Green is an author from Scotland, currently he lives in Botswana. His poem Antarctica is neatly woven, descriptive poetry. Nowadays descriptive poetry has slipped in the backyard. Here we see Peter’s pen slicing the ice foe, bringing the visceral and dulcet beauty of Antarctica to the surface.