Iceberg Breaking Free
Australian Antarctic Territory, midsummer
A penguin sneezes and the world erupts.
That grinding groan you hear
is the sound of a continent making love,
the blue mountain heaving and churning
under the flat white sheet.
Do you still think that if we weren’t here to listen
the sound would cease to be,
or have you understood at last
how small we are, how brief;
the things that used to mean so much
on our boiling bridge of words
count less than a seal’s snorts in a hole.
Published in Cyphers
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