ANTARCTIC VOICES
Australian Antarctic Territory
Sometimes when the wind here talks
it tells me things that science will never say:
how long ago by different stars
the gods of night and day agreed
to split the year between them;
that jutting rocks above the snow
are the eggs of enormous stone birds
and every iceberg is a wayward child
running away from home;
how the sky god bled the world of colour
to make the southern lights;
that rolling balls of snow
are tossed around by baby giants
while their parents’ snores from underground
pile up stacks of frozen steam
and that the penguins march away each year
to seek the trick of flight;
and how much more the cold would tell me
if I could catch its icy tongue.
Published in The Ecological Citizen
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S.C. Flynn 