Submitted by Ivor Steven
I’m winter hibernating,
Inside an Eskimo’s hut.
Feeding only on fish oil,
And frozen blue blood.
My heart’s cold and dormant,
Cowering under a dampened vestment.
Pumping only yesteryears rust,
And icicles of my dust.
My eyes are swollen rocks,
Amidst polarized sockets.
Terrorizing all that’s passed,
Like forgotten arctic icebergs.
My veins are hollow crevasses,
Inside a glaciers ice-flow.
Sheering and groaning chasms,
Like my memories deepest fjord.
Photo Credit: An Arctic Landscape At Dusk – Herman Herzog