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 dive one by one in the water,

hunting the fish that hunt the krill

that hunt the microbes around the iceberg.

This chain of life trails on behind

our slowly shrinking country

that drifts away from treaties

and out of reach of governments

towards a dissolving future.

Published in Tir na nOg magazine

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