So much was lost in the leaving, in the shuffle of feet to the sea and the coughs below decks, lost in the squinting at unimagined sunlight and the sting of feet on burning sand; so much I can never regain. Right now I could be stepping on hungry grass that cannot harm because unknown… Continue reading Return to Roscommon

VOYAGE OF THE ICEBERG Australian Antarctic Territory, midsummer Now evening’s wearing midday’s face. Our floating time capsule, sparkling and popping, is shoving through the flimsy sea ice. I now feel Gondwanan voices simmering beneath my feet; every rising bubble of air that gouges our tall ship’s sides carries off a puff of history. The penguins… Continue reading Voyage of the Iceberg