Antarctic Range
The mountain rises up sublime above
The rabble of the rocks expressed by God
Below the distant cloud. There isn’t love
Here…maybe something like it in the odd
Seal progeny and parents and a chick
A penguin hunkers over still. That’s it.
But when a growing pup starts to flick
Its scuba tail through ocean waves, it’s hit
By killer whale rapacity. The black
And white beast tosses up its prey
For practice, maybe fun. The pup is slack
In death. The teeth are hurling love away.
..The pale cloud mist and noble mountain are
….Untouched by warmth. They wait aloof, far . . . far.