reflected in the eye of an angel
Are they not the most angelic of beasts? Bright
white & mighty of limb though hardly suited for flight
One thousand pounds of hypercarnivorous bear
O fragile child what do you think of the cub
seeing for the first time their diminishing arctic icescape
stumbling after her mother from their winter lair?
Isolation has proven insufficient the implications of wrong
radiate to the ends of the earth where
even inanimate ice crystals wait
She knows nothing of changing seasons or if all this drip shrink
thaw occurs for more ominous reasons doesn’t even know
it hasn’t been continuous all winter long
Franklin dreamed of the Northwest Passage in days before
supertankers But do you dare allow it knowing now
what such a trajectory could mean?
Does the mother bear notice there’s less sea ice? Do you
O fragile child on occasion include the creation you’re
to watch over in your morning prayer?